The Corner Office (closed)

Derek watched as Lisa broke down. Her hips heaved desperately, trying to keep her needy clit in contact with his fingers. He was smiling, she couldn't see because her eyes were screwed shut, her mouth open and panting, little incoherent sounds slipping from her lips as she rode her orgasm. He was careful not to touch her again as she desperately humped her hips around, her orgasm seemed to last for a long time. There was also a flush to her cheeks, more than just arousal. She was embarrassed about cumming, about not following his instructions.

Good.

If she was sensitive to humiliation then it was not only an easy button, but one that was very relevant to her situation at the moment.

"Tsk, tsk, Lisa. I told you to hold still."

He hadn't really expected her to, but there was no reason to let her know that.

"You've got some things to work on. But you tried, and that does count for something. So you'll only get one more swat for that."

His hand drew back and down, then flew towards Lisa. His hand was cupped and came up sharply between her legs, spanking her still slightly swollen and wet pussy.
 
The last spasms of her orgasm gradually quieted, and she became aware that he had stepped back, had taken his hand away, and was just watching her from a slight distance as she writhed on his desk, her reddened ass clenching and twitching as she came, all on her own. Her own cries were the only sound in the quiet office. He did not speak, either to voice his approval or a reprimand. He was silent, allowing her to hear every noise she was making against his wishes. Just letting her come for him.

Her face burned as she came back to reality, and she pressed her cheek into the cool polished wood. Easy - she had just shown him how easy - he'd touched her what, twice? She'd just demonstrated how hot she was for him, even after twenty (one) cracks with the belt, and no real encouragement from him - she'd been bent over his desk with her panties down for at least half an hour, and he had not been tempted. He hadn't even taken off his suit jacket, had hardly loosened his tie. It didn't matter that he didn't want her, she'd still reacted like an eager slut and gone to pieces at his lightest touch.

And she couldn't even get that right. Pain or pleasure, she couldn't keep still, or keep her mouth shut for five seconds at a time - even when that was all she'd been told to do. He must be so disappointed, maybe even disgusted by her behavior.

As if confirming her thoughts, she heard him tsk and point out her flaws. She couldn't even obey a simple command. She was very still, listening to him speak as tears stung her eyes - as if she could make up for failing, just seconds ago.

She swallowed hopefully when he said she had things to work on - did that mean he wasn't giving up on her? He acknowledged her efforts, and she felt a rush of gratification, tinged with some guilt - such a simple task, and he was giving her points for effort.

One more swat for that.


Lisa stiffened, and lifted her head, stretching her arms out to brace herself against his desk again. She could take one more. It would hurt like hell across her abused ass, but she clenched her jaw and vowed to herself that no matter how bad, she would not make a sound when the belt came this last time. She would show him that she was learning and that she wanted to improve. She would make him proud.

She lifted her hips and waited for the sound of the belt slicing through the air, and so his hand striking hard between her legs caught her badly by surprise. In spite of her convictions, her mouth flew open on a shrill cry at the sharp explosion of pain across her tender pussy, and her knees gave out again and she collapsed against the desk, moaning helplessly. She managed to hold herself up, keeping thighs wide apart, her pussy still burning and tingling, her swollen clit aching from the harsh slap.

But even before the sting began to subside, she felt an unexpected rush of shameful excitement...he - Mr. Munson - Derek - had punished her pussy. Had he felt how wet she was, when he slapped her with his bare hand? He knew very well how wet she was - that's why he'd slapped her there. He could have belted her ass again, if pain was the only lesson. To hurt her there, after she'd just finished coming so hard for him and was still engorged and terribly sensitive - it wasn't an accident. And with his bare hand. She let out another moan, though the pain had passed. She couldn't keep spinning on these thoughts, or she'd never get up. Just keep standing here with her bare ass and pussy offered up to him.
 
Derek watched as Lisa recovered from the slap. She was very wet, that was obvious. She was also wriggling a bit as the sensations subsided, but she didn't break position. She was still offering her reddened ass and swollen sex to him. He reached out and placed one hand across her back, stroking up and down gently, moving closer so she could feel his pant leg against her bare thigh.

"You look very horny Lisa. Do you want to be fucked? I know you do. You want me to fuck you like some bitch in heat right here with you draped across my desk. I know you want that."

His body leaned over, his mouth next to her ear as he spoke again.

"But you wont get it. Not now. Fucking is earned. You did well for your first time, but there have to be standards and limits. Next time you will do better, and you might even earn a fucking."

One hand reached down and gripped her panties, pulling them until the fabric tore and they garment was left in his hand.

"No more panties for you unless I say so. Tomorrow you will wear none, and you will wear a skirt that's at least an inch shorter than this one. And no touching yourself tonight. If you do, what I just did to your ass will be a very fond memory. Now go home and sleep, I can finish up tonight's work. I'll see you in the morning."

Derek untucked her skirt from its own waistband and draped it over her ass, covering her again. One tug to her hair got her upright and looking at him, her eyes bright and open. He could see straight through her.

"Good night Lisa, don't misbehave."

One moderately forceful swat to her covered bottom encouraged her to head out of the office for now.
 
Did he understand how his touch made her crazy, made her panic inside with the jolt of excitement she felt, that he should put his hand on her - anywhere? Did he know that the brush of his suit against her bare skin made her feel exposed and guilty and vulnerable, and was he as surprised as she, that she was so comfortable in the wrongness of it?

You look very horny Lisa.

"God...!" her jaw snapped on the hoarse cry and she made sweaty fists against the desk, too aware of her red, upturned ass, and slick, twitching pussy, still bare and available to him.

Do you want to be fucked?

He clearly didn't need her to answer, but through clenched teeth she dragged on the words, "Yeeess, sirrr..." and groaned, nodding, sliding against the desk as she listened to him confirm it for himself, explicitly, words she would never have dared to say.

Then he was on top of her again, still fully clothed, and Lisa had to bite her lips to keep from begging, to keep from wailing in frustration as he murmured in her ear that he was not going to fuck her. That she didn't deserve it. Next time, he was saying, maybe next time. She squirmed restlessly under him, so he would feel it.

She held her breath as he reached between them, between her legs again to take her panties by the damp crotch. She felt the elastic bite and burn into the flesh just above her knees as he pulled them away from her, patiently, insistently, until she heard the purr of the fabric tearing. It made her shudder pleasantly. She tried to rise, pressing back into his shirt front, tried to look over her shoulder and see which ones they were - if they had Minnie Mouse on them, she would die of embarrassment. Pale pink, plain cotton, full coverage. Not sexy.

He was straightening up. No more panties, he was saying. His voice was quite firm and she listened, quivering. A shorter skirt - she would have to get one. No touching, tonight. She froze on that. Or he would do worse to her. Lisa exhaled, very slowly and quietly.

Now go home. He was finished with her. She felt his brisk touch behind her, pulling her skirt back down - a formality, at this point, really. She made a small noise in her throat, feeling his hand in her hair - was he finished? Her face felt very naked as she rose stiffly and turned to look up at him finally, and felt her cheeks flush again in spite of herself, in spite of everything. Oh, was he sure he was finished? She could feel the desire on her face.

His good night was very final, paired with a smack that surprised a grunt out of her - surprised that he could make her hurt through her clothes. It got her moving. She stumbled out of his office without another word, glancing back at him only once.

On the sidewalk, several stories below, she stood looking up at his office for several minutes as she shrugged into her coat. She could see that the lights were on, but the angle was wrong to see anything else. For the first time, she wondered if anyone else on the street or in the adjacent buildings had witnessed the goings-on in the corner office after the sun went down. She was surprised that the thought didn't bother her more. She only wanted Derek's approval. A chilly breeze teased up the back of her skirt, making the welts on her ass sting, and she decided that she would walk home, tonight. She could use the walk.

She stayed up too late, perched very gingerly on the edge of her bed, hemming one of her skirts by hand to make it shorter. When she tried it on, it looked terrible - uneven and bunchy. In a panic, she called her friend Cara, who came over in a hurry with a slim black pencil skirt that fell a few inches above the knee. Cara waited until Lisa emerged from the bathroom with the skirt on, and smirked, familiar with her friend's usual demure style. "Going out?"

"Uh - no? ... Just - trying a new look," Lisa answered absently, turning in the mirror to check the back, very conscious of the tight fit, the fabric rubbing against her sore ass.

"I brought a top, too."

She had. It was red and fitted, with a deep neckline. Lisa shimmied into it as her friend watched. A very deep neckline. "Could I - get away with this at work, do you think?"

Her friend blinked and sat up. "At work?? I...I mean - sure, it's not like, slutty or anything - it looks nice on you. Who're you trying to impress at work, all of a sudden?"

Lisa could feel herself blushing. Her friend stared. "No one...no one! I just want to look nice." She glanced at the clock.

"And I've gotta be totally rude and ask you to go now," she added hurriedly, cutting off her friend's next question and ushering her to the door with a sheepish smile. "Gotta be up early. Thanks so much, I'll return this stuff - maybe we can go shopping this weekend? Thanks, Cara - 'night!"

It was a long, nearly sleepless night. She couldn't get comfortable - could not lie on her back at all, and tossed and turned for hours, unable to quiet her excited thoughts. You're no good to him if you're a zombie tomorrow - panties or not, she scolded herself silently - but it was no help. She would just begin to relax and then remember the merciless crack of his belt, the weight of his body against hers, his voice when he said he knew she wanted him to fuck her, the vicious sting of his flat palm against her pussy...

She hadn't imagined that she would want so much to disobey him. She'd really thought that after her one, hard orgasm - in his office, with him watching her and barely touching her (she groaned in the dark) that she wouldn't need it again - but now... She was so agitated, and she knew - knew from experience - that an orgasm would wear her out, let her sleep. The clock read 3:00 am. She had to be up in three hours. And how would he ever know?

Lisa rolled over for the umpteenth time, and tucked a hand between her thighs. She just left it there for several minutes, not reaching any further. Worse than the belt. The belt will be a fond memory. She extended one finger - her clit was ready, sensitive, responsive, slightly wet. She pressed gently, rolling it under her fingertip. He'll never know. Just a quick one, get it out of your system and then sleep for a few hours. She rubbed harder - oh - remembering him on top of her, imagining him pinning her to the desk this time, scrabbling between them to get his zipper open, snarling at her: Do you want to be fucked? Do you? Making her say it.

She made herself stop - she made herself stop and take her hand away. He'll never know! her mind protested, but she made herself turn over and jammed both hands under her pillow. Surely it didn't count.

In the morning, she crashed around her apartment, bleary-eyed, and ran herself a cool shower. Washed carefully, careful not to linger. Fished a pair of black stay-up stockings from the very back of her sock drawer and rolled them on, glad to see that they stopped just under the hem of the skirt and didn't have any runs. Added a pair of modest kitten heels, left her dark hair down to curl on her shoulders, daubed on some lipstick.

She arrived earlier than usual, and many of her co-workers did a double-take and whispered amongst themselves as she walked down the hall, but she didn't see or hear them. His door was open and his light was on. Had he gone home at all? What would he say to her, today - would he regret what had happened? Would he like the way she looked, or was it too much? Would anyone guess that she wasn't wearing panties? Would Derek guess that - ? She pushed that last thought deliberately away, growing more and more anxious as each step brought her closer.
 
Derek watched Lisa. She had responded so very well, he felt galvanized by the brief interlude between them. There had been a time when he and his wife had enjoyed playing like that, nothing as serious as the belt he'd used on Lisa, but still that kind of play. She looked back once, still wide eyed and a little wobbly in the legs, but she obeyed.

Work went fast, the image of the belt cracking across her raised ass seemed to give him an adrenaline shot to his mind and body. Lisa had done the work necessary for him to rework the presentation, it just needed his polish and a few facts double checked as he was putting the finishing touches on it. It still took several hours, and by the time Derek was finished and satisfied with the product it was after midnight and he felt no desire to drive home. The executive washroom did have a shower, and he always kept a spare suit in his office. After shedding his clothes and settling down on his couch, Derek let his mind wander back to Lisa, and her ass, and the way she had trembled and cum with just the slightest touch.

He was very erect as he thought about it, but resisted the urge to finish himself off. Tomorrow would be good, he could figure out then if he should take care of himself or see just how far Lisa would go with this new game they'd discovered.

Derek woke early, a necessary thing if one slept in the office, and got up yawning. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and put on his back up suit. He made a mental not to have Lisa take the one from last night to the dry cleaners, and began dictating notes on the upcoming projections. He was quite happy with his work as the office began to fill, and he looked up in time to see Lisa enter the office and walk towards him.

The skirt she was wearing was the required inch shorter, and showed off a hint of her thighs, which he remembered were very nice. The top was red, and showed off some cleavage, the same cleavage she'd tried to distract him with last night. The neck line was a bit lower than he'd thought she'd go with, but well within acceptable standards for the work place. Stockings completed the ensemble, and he noticed she was wearing heels. She didn't normally, but they definitely fit her well. She walked into his office, she looked calm and normal on the outside, but behind her eyes he could still see the nerves.

"Close the door will you Lisa."

Derek pulled out his revised presentation in hard copy form and placed it on the edge of his desk.

"I need copies of this, and I've sent you an audio file I need transcribed. Now then, lift your skirt, I need to know you can follow directions."
 
His head was bent over his desk, but he looked up before Lisa had made it to hers, and beckoned for her to come in. She felt her heart thrumming in her chest and had to remind herself as she crossed the threshold that the office was full of people, that he wouldn't do anything to her with so many people within earshot.

Close the door will you Lisa.


It was hard to breathe. She swallowed hard and turned on her heel and pushed the door closed behind her, knowing that he was looking at her, the way she was dressed. He hadn't commented on it. Was he going to tell her it had all been a mistake, that it had been a one-time thing, that he was married, that it wouldn't happen again? She almost hoped that he would - though if he did, she knew she would quit. She couldn't go on working for him.

She stood a few steps from his desk, feeling very small, resisting the urge to tug at the hem of her skirt to make sure it covered her, to fold her arms across her chest, to tuck her hair behind her ears, to bite her lower lip. He slapped a copy of his reworked presentation on the desk and spoke to her like it was any other day, instructing her on what he needed her to do - not a word about last night - and she felt with growing certainty that he was content to pretend it never happened. With the pang of dismay came a silent rush of relief, and as he spoke she felt herself beginning to relax. He had no higher expectations of her than of any other admin assistant. Even if she had to quit, it was a relief knowing that she wouldn't disappoint him again.

But without stopping for breath, as if it was all in her job description ("additional duties, as required"), he instructed her to lift up her skirt to show him she had followed his directions. She'd just taken a step to reach for his presentation, and now she stopped and looked back at him with pleading eyes. Now?? With all these people just outside the door? She could hear them in the hall, heading for the coffee station, laughing and gossiping. She glanced uneasily at his office door. Closed, but not locked. At least one of the other executives had a rude habit of bursting through unlocked doors without bothering to knock.

Derek was waiting for her to comply. Had she really thought he would be satisfied with just her word on the matter? No, but she'd thought it would be settled after hours. She could refuse...yes, she knew she could always refuse...

It was harder, now that she had to face him, and harder to do it, herself. She wished he would come around the desk again as she stiffened and squeaked and find out for himself, jerk her skirt up to her chin.

She reached and took the hem with both hands and had to wriggle to pull the tight skirt up over her thighs, and with a nervous little tug, up above her bare hips, revealing her neatly trimmed pussy to him, showing her ass, criss-crossed with marks from last night's abuse, to the door. She pressed her lips together tightly and struggled to look back at him, holding her skirt up and waiting.
 
Derek deliberately watched Lisa as she fidgeted. Her nerves were now evident in her eyes, but she tugged at the hem of her shorter skirt until her bare sex was revealed to him. Derek stood and walked around his desk, picking up the presentation and his notes and handing them to Lisa as he took a quick look around her bared lower half. She was sporting some nice welts, and Derek was tempted to abuse them a little more, but he resisted the urge. Instead he turned away from her and spoke once his back was turned.

"I want that hair gone."

It was a dismissive tone, deliberate, calculated.

"It's nice to know you can follow basic instructions. Please hurry with those notes and the copies, then you will accompany me as I go to the meeting, bring all the relevant data with you. Oh, and when you get a chance later today take my other suit to the dry cleaners."

Derek returned to his seat behind his desk and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. He deliberately waited until her hand was on the door knob before he spoke again.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Did you touch yourself last night."

He watched as her head slowly turned back to him, his blue eyes piercing into hers.
 
She couldn't entirely contain a thin whine as he stood up and walked around the desk toward her. If he touched her, she would have to keep quiet - she would never do anything to jeopardize his career - but she didn't know if she could do it. But he didn't touch her. He passed the presentation to her with some other notes, and glanced briefly at her exposed sex and ass, pausing only to mention that the hair displeased him.

She squirmed uncomfortably, juggling the papers as she tugged and smoothed her skirt back down with one hand. She'd never shaved before, had never considered shaving, but now it seemed like something she ought to have known to do.

Lisa nodded - and then he was talking strictly about work again: he needed her to quickly finish the work he'd handed to her, and come with him to his meeting - a development that made her nervous - and take his suit to the cleaners, she could do that on her lunch break... It was confusing, to switch gears so jarringly, but he seemed utterly unconcerned, as if it was all the same, to him. She supposed she would have to learn to think about it the same way.

He sat down, dismissing her, not looking at her again, and Lisa murmured, "Yes, sir," and hurried to the door to get to her desk, and get to work.

She halted at the door as she heard his voice - the one question she'd hoped he wouldn't ask her - and she turned back to see him watching her carefully, now, and felt her face redden even before she could decide how to answer.

Stop it, she told herself. It doesn't count - you didn't come, that's what he means - so you're not lying to him. Stop blushing right now! She felt the color creep across her face fully up to her hairline, and felt her body tense and begin to sweat as she stammered, "No, I - I didn't, sir. I didn't."

She waited uncertainly, increasingly apprehensive, for him to dismiss her again. His cool gaze drilled into her, and she couldn't look up into his face. After a moment, she mumbled, "I should - I should really get going on these, shouldn't I? If that's everything, Mr. Munson?"
 
Derek watched Lisa intently. She was red, and stammering, eyes unable to meet his, fidgeting a little under his scrutiny. She was lying, he was sure about it. Stammering, maybe a blush, that could easily be explained away by the awkwardness of the situation from her perspective, but the way she was moving, the entire vibe she was giving off. Yes, she was lying.

"Are you sure?"

Derek stood and walked towards her, pausing just a breath away from her, deliberately not touching her.

"You know, I thought I was clear last night. No touching yourself. But you might have misunderstood me. You might have thought I meant no climaxing on your own. Is that what you thought?"

One hand reached up and rested on the door just beside her head.

"Because if that's what you thought, you were wrong. I said no touching, and I meant no touching at all. Did you misunderstand me Lisa? Is that why you're fidgeting and unable to meet my eyes?"
 
Her fingers were still on the doorknob. She would have liked to just yank it open and walk to her desk without another word. Really - she'd just hiked her skirt up to show him she wasn't wearing anything underneath - wasn't that enough humiliation before 9 o'clock? Whatever had happened between them in this office, what business was it of his, whether or not she'd touched herself, last night?

Except that it was, somehow. Somehow.

She felt him watching her, and she knew the truth was all over her face. Quietly, after a moment, he asked: Are you sure? She couldn't move. She stood staring at her hand on the doorknob and couldn't reply.

A low whine escaped her as she heard him get up from the desk and approach her. Lisa wanted to tear the door open and run, but something made her stay. Her throat clicked as she swallowed hard, hearing and feeling him stop too close to her - closer than was polite. She waited, fully expecting to feel his hand in her hair, dragging her back, making her look at him - but no. He didn't touch her, and he didn't block her exit. He only stood over her and spoke quietly, saying that she might have misunderstood him. She felt her cheeks grow hotter, knowing that she hadn't misunderstood, and now she was caught in the lie...but was he giving her an 'out'? If she agreed, would he forgo the punishment he'd promised her?

She ventured a glance up at him, and he chose that moment to lean forward, resting his hand against the door. Lisa jumped. He still hadn't laid a finger on her...but now she couldn't leave unless he allowed it. Guiltily, she took her hand off the knob and hugged his papers to her chest.

He was suggesting again that she'd misunderstood his instructions, and he made it tempting to confess. His tone was so reasonable - a mistake, that was better to admit to than outright defiance, wasn't it? It was all so new to her - would he punish her for a misunderstanding? Worse than the belt, he'd promised, and she blushed, knowing that he had been very clear. She'd known, last night, that she wasn't to touch, and had done it anyway. But she could almost convince herself that he was right, that she'd misunderstood. If she could just convince him...

She turned, and it was the hardest thing, to make herself look up at him. Her voice was tiny, barely more than a croak - mindful of the voices she could hear beyond the door.

"I - I guess I did misunderstand, sir." She was sure to get that in first, before admitting to anything. "I did - touch myself, last night...just for a minute, and I made myself stop! I thought - I thought if I didn't come, you wouldn't... I thought that's what you meant."

She glanced away. She couldn't keep looking at him. "I made a mistake, sir, I'm sorry. I'll know, the next time, and I - I won't do it again."

She bit her lower lip and pressed her back against the door. Her knees suddenly felt very shaky.
 
Derek waited, listening to Lisa's breathing, he could see the gears in her mind turning as she processed the information he'd given her. After a few moments she spoke, and he listened. When she finished speaking she bit her lower lip nervously and Derek moved back an inch or so, but kept his hand on the door.

"Don't you feel better now?"

His free hand raised and touched her exposed chest, above where he cleavage formed.

"No more tension here. When you lie, when you hide things, it builds tightness in your chest and shoulders. Now your knees are a little shaky, and you're nervous, but your tightness of the upper body is gone. See how much better it feels to be honest?"

He leaned in close, whispering just into her ear.

"I gave you a specific directive, no touching. I thought you could understand that, but it seems I was wrong. I'll have to be much more clear in the future so there's no more misunderstandings. Since you showed restraint and stopped yourself you wont get the full punishment I had in mind."

One beat of a pause, let her digest that.

"However, you lied to me. Yes you came clean, but there can be no lies between us Lisa. I will have to punish you for that, and of course a little for touching after I told you not to. We can talk about it later though, for now there's work to be done. I know you wont disappoint me at the presentation, otherwise I wouldn't want you there with me."

With that Derek stepped back, hand off the door, allowing her to leave.

"The presentation is in a few hours, and I expect you to be ready. I'll see you then."

Derek had deliberately not mentioned her punishment, or when they'd talk, just to let her stew on it. Fortunately he was also sure it wouldn't affect her work, because she knew the penalty if it did. He returned to his desk and began making calls as well as he prepared for the upcoming meeting later in the day.
 
He waited patiently, without interrupting, as she made her halting confession of her transgressions. Did he believe her? His face didn't change, either way. Perhaps it was exactly what he'd been expecting to hear.

He stepped back, and it was easier to breathe at once, as if he had been leaning his weight against her chest. She'd been anticipating his disapproval, his condemnation, the back of his hand hard across her face for this admission of guilt. Instead, his voice and his demeanor were so calm and encouraging - almost genial. He no longer loomed into her space. Yes, she felt better, she opened her mouth to say -

And then he pressed his hand flat against her bare skin, just above the swell of her breasts, and Lisa's voice died in her throat with a gasp.

No more tension here.

She was nodding, trying to listen, but couldn't follow as he spoke about the importance of honesty, feeling his warm fingers against her chest, the tip of his smallest just resting in the valley of her cleavage. She felt his hand rising and falling with each excited breath - and he would feel it, too. Could he feel her heart thumping so hard, just under his palm?

Then he leaned his in face close to hers, and a helpless mewling slipped through her parted lips - she was sure he was going to kiss her!

No. He whispered, so close to his office door, and the hot rush of sound in her ear made her rub her stockinged legs together and squeeze. Her face burned as he expressed his disappointment, that she hadn't been able to follow a simple order. It stung, to let him think that she wasn't capable of understanding him, and honesty had felt good - but she didn't know what he was going to do. For her self-control he would be lenient, he said, but she couldn't know what he meant...

However, you lied to me. She felt a cold, sinking, guilty dread, and she felt weak again, leaning hard against the door. No lies. He would punish her for lying, and for her disobedience.

But not now - later. All business again as she shuddered, and he took his hand away and stepped back and returned to his desk. There was work to get done and a meeting to get to. He knew she wouldn't disappoint him.

She watched as he picked up his phone and punched in a number as if she wasn't in the room, as if she was the furthest thing from his mind. You lied to me. Lisa felt the sudden compulsion to confess everything to him - that she'd known not to touch herself - even if it made him punish her more severely. How much worse would it be for her, if he discovered that she had lied to him about this, too? Or if he knew - if he already knew it and was waiting to see how long it took her to own up? Nothing seemed impossible. She had to tell him - now.

But he was on the phone. He looked up at her - once, as if mildly surprised to see that she was still there. Lisa waited, but when he hung up on the call he tapped another number almost immediately, and when he looked up again, his eyes were dark with annoyance. He glanced pointedly at the clock and then back at her. The presentation was in a few hours, there were tasks for her to accomplish. This wasn't the time; she had missed her chance to confess to him, and now it would have to wait.

She escaped his office in a flurry of legs and nerves, tripping on her heels as she rushed to her desk. She booted her computer up and tried to remember what he'd asked her to do: copies, an audio file, and now lift up your -

Stop. Mr. Munson needed her to focus right now. He was able to turn it on and off again with no trouble - it was humbling, how easy it was for him, to turn it off. She had a lot to learn about discipline and restraint.

When she was sure she was steady enough to walk again with some poise, she took his presentation to the copier room and got to work. He was counting on her.
 
Derek looked up after he'd dismissed Lisa to find her standing there looking anxious. Something was behind her eyes, the need to confess something. So, she had known what he meant by no touching. Interesting, but it could wait. There was business to deal with now. Fortunately she got the hint in his eyes and left the office to begin her official duties. Derek smiled to himself after she left, she would make him proud.

The time between Lisa's visit and the presentation flew by, but Derek felt prepared. He was closing the door to his office and started walking down the hallway, glancing briefly to see that Lisa was following him. He motioned her closer and spoke without looking at her.

"I want you in the room with me, have all the materials ready. You'll be responsible for passing out the information packets, and providing me with documentation on specific questions. I know you wont let me down Lisa. Let's get this done, and if all goes well there could be a reward in it for you."

They arrived at the conference room before everyone and began setting up as the others began drifting into the room. By the time everyone was in and seated Derek had his lap top set up to project, Lisa sitting in the corner close to hand when he needed any of the information that she carried with her.

He put on his best PR smile, stepped out of the projectors line of light, and started the presentation.
 
At her desk, Lisa opened the audio file Mr. Munson had sent her and, with a quick glance around, plugged in her earphones. If he'd recorded it last night, after - after she'd left, he might have recorded a special message for her, knowing it was for her ears only. She wanted to listen to it, all the way through, before she started typing.

She sat idle at her desk, staring at her blank screen, just listening breathlessly to his voice. He didn't utter a single word on the recording that didn't pertain to the projects he was working on and the ideas he would be presenting, but his tone had the same calmly confident, slightly authoritative ring. She recognized it from when he had spoken to her about her desires, and the things he was going to do to her, and the things he wasn't going to do. Was it because he knew he would be speaking directly into her ears? He said nothing, nothing on the recording that could be misconstrued as inappropriate, should anyone else listen to it - had Lisa not come in this morning, any other assistant from down the hall could have transcribed it for him without batting an eyelash. But he had known - hadn't he? - that she would be in, that she couldn't stay away. Did he suspect that she would listen from beginning to end like this, for some secret message, some dirty suggestion in his voice that didn't exist?

She felt silly when she had reached the end of it, and started the file again from the beginning immediately, trying to make up for wasted minutes. But she went slowly, stopping often, glancing back to check each line - it would be disastrous, to make the same mistake she'd made yesterday. Under the desk, her stockings whispered seductively as she rubbed her knees together while she typed.

When she was finished, she opened Find in the document and typed in every bad word she could think of. She blushed as the computer highlighted every guilty faux pas, just as he had done - not many, but a few - and she quickly deleted and corrected them. She went through the document visually three times, and caught another phrase with a lewd double-meaning that she was shocked to realize was in her vocabulary. She had just finished correcting it and hitting Save again to the thumb drive, when Derek's door opened.

Lisa stacked the copies of the presentation neatly, and safely ejected the memory stick, feeling slightly out of breath, recalling the feel of his hand against her chest. She had trouble looking up at him, and busied herself with logging out of her computer before she realized that he was walking past, not stopping at her desk, and she had to scramble to collect the presentation materials and catch up.

He was speaking even before she managed to fall in stride a step or two behind, taking no notice of her, but telling her he wanted her with him.

"Yes, sir."

She stifled an excited little shiver. It was thrilling to attend the meeting with him - everyone would know that he wanted her to be there, that he considered her useful to him - but she was nervous, too. Her face felt so naked, in his presence. Would anyone guess what he had done to her last night? And how she felt about it? She was afraid of their curious eyes, their speculation about Derek Munson's shy new assistant, so out of character in this provocative outfit.

But he wanted her there. If it went well, he might reward her. Lisa felt her nipples stiffen inside her bra as she laid out information packets next to each chair around the conference table. She'd had a taste of his rewards. She would be everything he needed her to be.

When she had finished setting up and people began filing in, he sent her to the corner, where she waited in the dim light for his next instructions. She was grateful. No one would pay much attention to her, here - though she would have to keep her legs crossed so that they couldn't see up her skirt. From here, too, she could watch him freely - she was expected to watch him - the way he moved in his beautifully tailored suit, the way he smiled and welcomed the participants, the way he commanded their attention with just the slightest hint of impatience when he was ready to begin...

Lisa crossed her legs at the knees and squeezed hard.
 
Derek spoke easily before the group that was assembled. They were all of about his rank in the company or just a little lower, this wasn't as much about selling them on the new direction as it was informing and getting them on board. Derek had already sold the basic concept to the top floor, this was a more refined version of that with breakdowns for each department. He stood at the head of the table, tapping his laptop every so often to either move the presentation along or back up to explain something further.

When he was done he opened the floor for questions or concerns that hadn't already been addressed. The first couple he handled easily, but after a bit he needed more specific references and held out his hand without looking at Lisa. He heard papers shuffling, felt something placed into his hand. His cool blue eyes looked down at it. She had at least handed him the right papers, that was good.

A few more minutes of questions and answers, then he adjourned the meeting.

"Each department head has a packet that will outline in further detail what's been discussed here, Lisa will hand them out. Just see her as you're leaving."

With that Derek powered down his computer and began gathering his things, not looking at the line of people walking by his flustered assistant. She knew what would happen if she botched this badly.

"If she gives you the wrong information call me later in the day and I'll make sure the right stuff gets to everyone."

When everyone had filed out of the room it was left to just Derek and Lisa to clean up. He again didn't look at her, but when he sensed no movement he growled low in his throat, just loud enough for her to hear.

"You already lied to me today, and touched yourself last night when you knew damn well what I meant. Let's finish the day the right way yes?"
 
In the semi-darkness, Lisa found it too easy to be caught up in the rhythm of his voice, not listening to the words or trying to understand, just lulled by his voice and staring at him shamelessly with nothing expected of her, as if she was in a dream. Then, with the presentation over, came the questions from his audience, at which he lobbed back answers like tennis balls, and she felt quiet pride and admiration at his conviction and self-assuredness.

It was several seconds before she noticed his pause, and his hand, outstretched in her direction. She blinked up at him as if she'd been dozing, but he didn't look at her. Was he introducing her to them, should she take his hand - stand? No - shit - his notes, his research! She dropped some of the papers to the floor in her confusion, and leafed through the rest with sweaty fingers, only half-remembering the sound of the last question and guessing at the information he needed. Her hand shook as she thrust the papers at him. Oh God, please be right -

He glanced down at the notes, and then spoke on as if there had been no delay, and Lisa gasped in relief. He handled the rest of the questions without a hitch, and she began to relax when she heard him close the meeting and thank everyone for coming.

But then, as if she should know, he told them to see her on the way out. Lisa snatched up the information packets and hurried to meet the leaving participants at the door. Each envelope had the name of a department head written on it, and she did her best to match them with the right people, but mixed up a few of them. Some were very gracious about it, but others rolled their eyes and huffed as they swapped with the proper person. She heard a shrill laugh in response to someone's muttered comment as they left the conference room.

Derek spoke up, making allowance for her possible screw-ups and assuring his colleagues that he would get them the correct information. She felt stung, that he should have so little faith in her abilities - but then, she knew she'd hardly inspired his confidence, today.

Then they were alone again. Lisa stood by the door uncertainly, watching the participants disappear down the hall, waiting for Derek to tell her what was next. She ventured a glance at him - he was closing his laptop and stacking his materials, and he did not look up. She took a step into the room, but halted when she heard his voice, low and stern.

You already lied to me today, and touched yourself last night when you knew damn well what I meant. Let's finish the day the right way yes?


Her knees went weak; she stumbled over to lean against the corner of the conference table, and looked anxiously at the open door - there was no one in the hall, but anyone might have walked by. She felt shaky all over, caught out - he knew - of course he knew. She should have confessed it when she'd had the chance!

She made her way across the room to her corner and knelt to pick up her spilled papers, badly shaken and careless of her short skirt. What did he mean, finish the right way? Her notes kept getting away from her, she crumpled several pages in her haste to catch them up - then she couldn't find her pen -

"Sir, I - I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention like I should have been, today. I'll do better, next time," she murmured, facing the corner. She turned and straightened up, hugging her papers to her chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable as he flipped on the lights.

Very quietly, so no one would overhear, she continued hesitantly, "I - I knew what you meant, Sir, yes...I tried - I meant to tell you, earlier." She swallowed, feeling her face burning again, unable to lift her gaze above his knees - was he looking at her? This probably wasn't the time or place to speak about it, but she felt she had to. "I knew - what you meant, but - I couldn't help it, Sir. I was so - so excited, when I got home...I did it without thinking -"

Not true. She stammered to amend it, "I - I mean, I - knew you said not to, but - I had to. I had to. But I did stop, I swear!"

Oh God. She was making it worse.

"How do I finish the day right, Sir? Please help me."
 
Derek was ignoring Lisa as she scrambled around behind him. She was nervous, and stammering as he smoothly unplugged his laptop and began returning the conference room to its previous state. He did listen to Lisa though, he wasn't about to ignore her words. He listened closely as she spoke, stammered, confessed, and asked.

He smiled to himself, careful not to let her see. Lisa asking was a good sign.

"I know you stopped. You wont need further correction for not telling me sooner about touching. There's still the discipline necessary later tonight."

Derek stood and turned to face Lisa, his eyes on hers.

"But that will wait. For the rest of the work day I need you fielding calls and other questions from the presentation. I'm going to be working on the next phase and getting data together so I don't need to be disturbed. Let me make this perfectly clear, you are capable of handling all the tasks I give you, otherwise I wouldn't give them to you. You have all the information needed to field those calls."

Lisa was looking down at her shoes, which were nice and did good things for her ass.

"If you can't answer a question put it through to me. But know that for every call I get you will get two more blows of discipline tonight before we go."

One hand reached out and tipped up her chin until she was looking into his eyes.

"You will do just fine. Plus there's only a few hours until the day ends, do not disappoint me Lisa."

With that he turned and walked back towards his office. She would be behind him, he had no doubt about it.
 
She glanced up cautiously - no, he was not looking at her, even as he spoke about what he would punish her for, and what he would not punish her for. No, not punishment - correction, he called it. Discipline. She couldn't help squirming, and then he did look up.

Lisa tried very hard to hold his gaze again. He was telling her his expectations for the rest of the work day, it had nothing to do with harsher corrections than his work with the belt - she ought to have been able to face him. But his hard ice chip gaze on her seemed so intense, as if, while he instructed her on work matters, he could see right into her and knew all of the shameful things she wanted, even now, this minute - and all of the things she longed to do for him, if he would just ask her - tell her to. She blushed and looked at the floor, struggling to pay attention.

He wanted no interruptions, for the rest of the afternoon, he wanted her to handle all calls and inquiries. Lisa nodded, but felt uneasy in spite of his reassurances. Since she'd been hired here, her focus had been on him, and not on the work she did for him. She knew she had all the information, but it would be a question of finding it quickly when she needed to provide an answer on his behalf.

She felt better when he allowed that she could put a call through to him, if she was truly stumped...but then he clarified that it would come at a price. Two more blows - she almost looked up at him in surprise, but her courage failed her. Blows. Her ass was striped with welts, there wasn't a square inch of flesh he'd left unmarked - she couldn't take more of the same! She remembered the sting of his last slap between her legs. Where was he going to -

His fingers lifted her chin up suddenly and she faced him in a moment of unguarded fear and desire as he warned her not to disappoint him. Lisa swallowed and replied breathlessly, "No, sir."

She followed him down the hall, and when he walked into his office, she turned and went back to her desk. As she laid out her notes, she saw a light on her phone blink on to indicate that Derek's calls would be forwarded to her extension. In another moment it was ringing, and Lisa fumbled with the receiver, nearly dropping it before she brought it to her ear.

There was a pause on the other end when she answered, then a man's voice, impatient, "I was trying to reach Derek Munson."

Lisa blinked. "I - Mr. Munson is - unable to take calls, this afternoon. I'm his assistant. Is there something I can help you with?"

The man huffed and muttered, "I highly doubt it," but went on to ask her questions about the statistics reported in the last quarter. Rustling through her papers, Lisa was able to find the information he was looking for, and he sounded marginally less annoyed when he hung up.

She handled a half dozen more calls over the course of the afternoon, and was able to answer all of the questions, and was beginning to feel almost confident - certainly very self-satisfied - when a call came in from an irritable woman who had a question Lisa couldn't answer. She didn't even know what the woman was asking, but she took a stab at it several times, trying to guess.

The woman finally snapped angrily, "Put Derek on the phone - now."

Lisa stammered, "Der - I - I'm sorry, Mr. Munson has asked not to be disturbed -"

"Well, you are useless to me, and I need an answer, if I'm going to put my team on this. Put him on the phone, or I'll come down there and tell him how useless you are!"

Lisa swallowed, then mumbled, "Just a moment," and put the woman on hold.

Her finger hovered over the PAGE button. She was thinking of her pussy. Where was he going to hit her, tonight? She considered sending the caller directly to his voice mail...but if she came down in a rage, Derek would know that Lisa had put her off in the interest of saving her own hide. He wouldn't like it. She punched the button, feeling her pulse quicken and her chest tighten as she waited for him to answer.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," she squeaked. "It's Ms. Kent on the line, from Marketing? I - I'm not really sure what she's asking for, and she's getting impatient with me. Would you mind taking this one, please? I'm sorry."

She set the phone back in its cradle and saw that she had left sweaty fingerprints on the receiver. She glanced at Derek's closed door; she could hear his voice, his apologetic tone but not his words as he tried to pacify the angry woman. She could tell that he was being interrupted again and again, and wondered anxiously what the woman might be saying to him about his incompetent assistant.

She looked at the clock - there were only a few minutes left to the work day, and she was glad, but - this sure wasn't ending the day right.
 
Derek was sitting behind his desk, fingers pressed into his temples. For some reason a headache had come on really strong as he was working. Phone calls, numbers, projections, it was starting to blur his vision and cause a pounding between his ears. The asprin he'd taken hadn't yet kicked in when his phone buzzed and Lisa's voice floated up and into his ears.

"It's Ms. Kent on the line, from Marketing? I - I'm not really sure what she's asking for, and she's getting impatient with me. Would you mind taking this one, please? I'm sorry."

Fuck.

Derek didn't wait for Lisa to say anything else, he just forced himself to pick up the phone and keep his agitation out of his voice. He really hated Ms. Kent. The woman had a serious chip on her shoulder all of the time, always wanted things her own way, and was prone to temper tantrums of near epic proportions. Of all the people he absolutely didn't want to speak to today, especially with a headache, Margaret Kent was at the top in big bold letters with a huge space between her and the next woman down. To top off the annoyance, she had a thing for him, and he was well aware of it.

Her voice came over, irritated, bordering on shrill. Words about marketing, about issues with the new lines and directions and how she should have been more involved from the beginning. Derek tried to pacify her, he listened, spoke softly in soothing tones, tried to see her point of view, anything and everything that normally worked in situations like these. The worst part of it seemed to be her total lack of actual questions.

"Ms. Kent, do you actually have questions that only I can answer? I do have other things to do today, there's a very good reason I had my assistant answer everyone else's questions."

Derek pulled the phone away from his ear and waited for her initial rant to finish. The reality was that her questions could easily have been answered by Lisa, and he could feel his annoyance stirring like a thunderstorm inside his body. This wasn't actually about moving forward, this was her bitching about not being treated differently than anyone else. It was taking a ton of restraint to keep from snapping at her. He managed to avoid it until, for about the tenth time, she insulted Lisa.

"Margaret, do you really think I would have trusted someone to answer relevant questions if she wasn't qualified?"

Before she could answer he cut her off.

"There is no reason Lisa couldn't have handled your questions, well your relevant questions anyway. You have questioned my judgment and my methods, despite my record and position. And you have now wasted a fair amount of my time. I've answered your questions, I suggest you get back to work."

The phone hit the cradle a bit harder than necessary, and his eyes closed before Derek's forehead landed on his desk. Long moments passed before he stood up and stretched. His headache was in the process of dissipating as he glanced at the clock. It was after nine, but a fair margin. Margaret had taken much more of his time than he'd thought. He pressed the intercom button.

"Lisa, come in here please."

She would still be there, there was no doubt in his mind about that.
 
She listened anxiously, squirming in her chair, to his low voice through the closed door - patient at first, then raising abruptly in volume and emotion - she still couldn't make out the words, but flinched as she heard or imagined she heard him say her name. She'd never seen him angry, before. It was a little exciting, for reasons she didn't quite understand, but it made her very nervous, too. He didn't need this, this afternoon. He'd forwarded his line to Lisa and tasked her with handling all calls, all inquiries. She knew he had more important things to do.

She flinched again as she heard him slam the phone down - and then there was silence, ominous silence behind his closed door. She could only guess at his mood. She wondered if she should just collect her things - what few personal items she had brought in, having worked here for less than a week. This was her fault, she should have handled it. If she couldn't do that, then she wasn't what he needed.

People were leaving for the day, but she sat numbly at her desk, waiting. She wouldn't dare leave until he dismissed her. The question was, would he only dismiss her for the day, or dismiss her entirely?

The intercom buzzed, startling her so badly that she knocked over a water glass - mercifully empty. He told her to come in to his office; she couldn't guess from his tone whether he was still angry, or not - she would have to assume that he was.

Lisa slid out from behind her desk and approached his door, filled with trepidation. Should she knock? He'd told her to come in - she shouldn't make him tell her again. As her hand touched the doorknob, her knees began shaking so badly that she was afraid she'd fall down. She waited until the tremors passed before pushing the door open.

She couldn't look up at him, and she felt that her first words should be an apology. "I'm sorry, sir - I - I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do, but - but I should have. I should've tried harder..."

She trailed off - she didn't know what else to say. She looked at the carpet and waited for him to speak.
 
Derek forced himself to be composed as Lisa entered the room. She was nervous, that was written all over her face and in her body language. He watched as she spoke, listened to her voice and the trepidation causing it to stutter and shake. He waited for her to finish and the stood and moved to the side of his desk.

"Yes, yes you should have. However Ms. Kent would never have been satisfied until she spoke to me. From now on just put her through to me, or lie and tell her I'm not in. I'll tell you which one to do."

Derek undid his belt again and pulled it from the loops around his waist before doubling it over.

"Now then, over here, and take your tits out."

He punctuated the order by slapping the doubled belt lightly into his left hand, his eyes never leaving her form as she moved to obey.
 
She flushed gratefully at his answer. She should have been able to handle all of his calls, he had every right to expect it of her, but he was willing - not just to overlook her shortcomings, but to save her the anxiety of dealing with this woman again. Lisa murmured her quiet thanks and vowed silently to herself to improve, to learn to be all that he needed her to be. He was a good boss.

The sound of thick leather snaking through his belt loops made her lift her head with widening eyes, and the smile dropped abruptly from her lips as she watched him double the belt in his hands.

Now then, over here, and take your tits out.

She turned and quickly pushed the door closed behind her. His voice was neither any louder nor any quieter than usual, and there were still several people in the halls, chatting as they prepared to leave, asking last-minute questions and favors of each other - they'd all clear out in the next 15 to 20 minutes (she hoped), but she was afraid they might overhear him. Or her. She'd been unable to keep her mouth shut, last night.

She wanted to lock the door, but he hadn't told her to do it. She walked slowly across the room, as if wading in waist-deep water, and started to tug her top down by the neck - but then changed her mind and pulled it off, over her head. It was Cara's shirt, she shouldn't stretch it to pieces like that. She stopped in the middle of the room, where she hoped she was out of view of the windows, flinching at the light sound of the belt slapping his palm.

He was watching her as she reached behind her with clumsy fingers to unfasten her bra and shrugged her shoulders out of it and let it fall to the floor. It was hard to resist the urge to immediately cover herself with her arms across her chest, but she made herself hold them at her sides, feeling her nipples stiffen with the cool air, with his eyes on her. She had a nice, respectable C-cup, and she'd wanted to show them off, a little, but she hadn't counted on showing them to him like this.

Still several steps out of his reach, she couldn't make herself move any closer.
 
Derek watched, his icy blue eyes never leaving Lisa's frame as she pulled her top over her head and left it on the floor. She was moving slowly, nervous, fingers fumbling as she reached behind her to unhook her bra. She did of course, and the garment fell to the floor as well, her breasts bouncing free of the constraints. She had well formed breasts, not too big but nicely shaped and proportioned to her body. Her pink nipples instantly stiffened in the open air, and she stopped moving, her eyes wide.

He moved to her, belt still in hand. The belt was doubled, and he doubled it again.

"Open."

When she gave him a questioning look he spoke harsher.

"Your mouth. Since you have no self control this will help you not alert your coworkers."

Once her mouth was open he placed the folded leather belt between her teeth.

"Bite on that if you feel the need to cry out."

Without warning or preamble his right hand shot out, slapping her left tit, sending both of them swaying and leaving a visible red hand print on the pale skin. He slapped both of them liberally, left, right, left, right, up under them, down, then one final right over the nipples.

"Now then, pick up your clothes and get under my desk. I still have work to do and given the aggravation you've caused me I think you should suck my cock while I do it."

He turned without another word and moved back to his desk.
 
Her lips parted on a faint whimper as Mr. Munson crossed the distance between them, his belt in hand, and Lisa watched in confusion as he doubled it again - too short a length to strike her with - she thought. It took her a moment to register his command, and his abrupt tone made her shiver as she opened her mouth wide to take the belt. She blinked at him with hurt eyes at his little barb about her lack of self-control, but she couldn't argue with him, recalling the sound of her cries the night before, and how she'd been unable to keep from touching herself. Her jaw ached as she held the thick folds of leather between her teeth, and she stiffened slightly at his suggestion. He was going to hurt her again.

The first slap caught her off guard and she opened her mouth wider on a sharp exhalation and almost dropped the belt before she remembered to bite down, like he said, and muffle the sound. Her tits swung and he caught them up on the rebound - an even harsher blow, with the added momentum. Lisa clenched her jaw and tried to stifle her whining, squeezing her eyes shut in her pinched face, but holding her arms behind her to thrust her chest out, even as she gasped. Making it easier for him as he rained down this stinging assault. He slapped her full breasts around like meat, and she felt herself beginning to panic as her snuffling moans grew louder in the silent office. His last strike, directly across her sensitive, erect nipples, doubled her over with a breathy shriek and her arms flew to her sides where she made fists to resist the urge to fend him off.

But he was finished, for the moment. He took the belt from her, wet from her mouth, and she thought too late to look for bite marks in the smooth leather. Would he be upset? She wondered if there were other bite marks, from other girls.

She hesitated at his next instruction, but he didn't wait for her - just returned to his desk, confident that she would obey. She stood for several seconds in the middle of the room, watching the angry red handprints standing out starkly against her pale flesh, and feeling her cheeks warm to a similar shade. She wanted to. She never would have admitted it, even to herself, but she'd wanted to since the first day she met him, when he was still calling her Kim and absently overlooking her...but she'd known it was wrong. She still knew it was wrong.

She crouched to retrieve her clothes, and then, after a moment, got down on her hands and knees and crawled across the floor to follow him behind his desk. She had to pass by the windows, and she thought that she might draw less attention to herself this way, instead of strutting around topless under the bright flourescent lights. Of course, if anyone came into his office, it wouldn't much matter if she was walking or crawling. They'd know what she was.

He slid his chair aside so that she could crawl into the well under his desk, and Lisa could feel her face burning as she ducked her head and crouched between his legs. This was crossing a line - as if they hadn't already crossed a line, she thought, remembering with a twitch how she had dissolved into spasms at his barest touch. She was just doing what he'd told her, she reminded herself. She couldn't stop blushing, but she wouldn't say no, either. She wanted to.

She leaned up on her knees and reached with cold fingertips to open the button of his fly, pulling the zipper open slowly, and then stopped. Swallowing hard, utterly terrified. She wasn't bad at this - her past boyfriends had never complained, but they were painfully eager college guys; all she'd ever had to do was look at them sideways. Was Derek even hard for her?

Sitting back, suddenly shy, she bumped her head against the top of his desk as she mumbled, "I - I don't know how you like it, sir..."
 
Derek was sitting at his desk when Lisa bent to retrieve her clothing. She had that habit of pausing, of not obeying as quickly as possible. That would require correcting. He was a little surprised to see her remain on her hands and knees and crawl to him, it actually provided an appealing visual as she moved around. He pushed his chair back just enough for her to get around it and under the desk before he moved close again. As she reached into his crotch and unzipped his fly he began tapping on the keyboard, he did have work to do. Then she stopped and spoke, bumping her head on the desk as she did so.

"Well I assumed you had some experience in this area, but if you've never sucked cock before this will be difficult for you."

The force of her blush could be felt all the way up by where his fingers were tapping over the keyboard. Derek didn't look down as he kept typing, but his words were clearly directed at her.

"I want to see your skill level, what you're capable of, and how you please me. All you have to do is what I tell you to, stop thinking so much. Now reach in, take out my dick, and suck it. Don't stop until I tell you."

With that he reached for his phone and began dialing, there were still business hours to be used on the other coast.
 
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