Submission

At last, the skirt is high enough that the thick dark welts of her stockings appear beneath its hem. Any higher, and she’ll be giving them glimpses of her suspender straps and pussy lips bisected by a strip of soaking wet silk.

‘Should have known you were a stockings man,’ Daniel comments. She can’t lift her eyes to meet his gaze, or that of her master.

‘Of course,’ he replies. ‘First thing I did when I started fucking Matilda was make her ditch those nasty, cheap tights she used to wear.’ He tosses the word into the conversation with casual abandon, knowing how delightfully shameful she finds it to have their relationship and the things they do together described in such crude terms. ‘Would you like to see what else goes with them?’

She can’t believe he’s extended such an offer, but the word that would call a halt to all of this remains unspoken. There’s no point pretending she doesn’t want this. She’s always wondered quite how far she’d be prepared to go in following her master’s instructions, and it seems to be quite a lot further than she ever believed. Why else would her fingers fly back to the hem of the skirt, ready to push it up further if Daniel accepts the invitation?

It’s Daniel who hesitates, as though he isn’t sure whether her master is joking or not. ‘Are you sure?’ he asks.

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Dan. You know me.’

Those words are all the assurance Daniel needs. With a little, jerking nod, he signals his desire to see her underwear. Taking a breath, she hitches up her skirt until it’s past her stocking tops and her partly covered bum cheeks make contact with the smooth, worn leather of the chair beneath her.

‘Oh, very nice. Very nice indeed,’ Daniel murmurs.

She looks round, cheeks flushing red. Nothing has changed. The duffer still snoozes on the chesterfield, the antique clock still ticks on the mantelpiece, the room still smells of stewed prunes and old money. But it feels as though a thick pane of glass somehow separates her from what’s happening around her. By revealing her underwear to her master’s friend, she has removed herself to a place where the normal rules of behaviour no longer apply.

‘If you’d like to take a closer look, she’ll remove those knickers for you,’ her master informs Daniel helpfully. ‘You’ve probably realised by now that Matilda and I don’t exactly have an orthodox relationship. She’s my submissive, and she follows my instructions because it makes both of us happy, even though she might look like she’s dying of embarrassment right at this moment.’ He takes a mouthful of whisky, savouring its taste, even though the ice cubes have melted down almost to nothing. ‘All you have to do is give her the command.’

Daniel beams like a small child who’s been given permission to open his Christmas presents early. ‘Matilda, take your knickers off.’ Excitement makes his voice crack halfway through the sentence but, though he doesn’t possess any of her master’s natural authority, she still obeys him. It’s not his reaction she’s interested in as she reaches up and awkwardly tugs down her underwear, thighs pressed tightly together so she doesn’t reveal any more of her pussy than she has to. What concerns her is the approval in her master’s eyes. As she bares herself on the instructions of a man she’s never met before, he’s gazing at her with something that looks very like pride.

Knowing she’s pleasing him makes it easier for her to pull the French knickers all the way off, making sure they don’t snag on one of her heels. She holds the damp scrap of material awkwardly in her hand, waiting for her next instruction. It isn’t long in coming.

‘I don’t think Daniel can see what he really wants to. Open your legs, Matilda.’

‘Sir, I –’ Part of her still can’t believe this is really happening. What will happen if the waitress walks past and sees her with her wet, needy cunt exposed? Because it is needy, she can’t deny that. She’s been desperate to come since the moment she received the e-mail, but without his express permission she will continue to remain tense and frustrated.

‘I’m waiting, girl.’

That word is the trigger, prompting her to let her thighs loll apart. Daniel’s gaze flickers from her blushing face to her newly revealed sex, shaved so that only a strip of hair remains, as per the dress code.

‘Does she feel as good as she looks?’ Daniel asks.

‘Why don’t you find out?’

That’s how easy it is to give her to another man, if only for a few moments. Daniel comes close, crouching down on the floor so he can get a close-up view of her clit, the shining pearl pushing free from its covering hood. He puts his fingers to his mouth, wetting them with a sweep of his tongue, then presses them to her pussy. The merest contact is enough to have her hanging on the brink of orgasm, afraid she’ll lose all control and come before she’s allowed. If, she reminds herself, she’s allowed.

‘Easy, easy,’ Daniel soothes, changing his tack so that now two fingers push up into her hole. Moving away from her clit dulls the strong, shivery sensations, making it a little easier to hold back, but even so the steady in-and-out fucking motion soon has her humping her arse against the seat. When she left the office, she had no idea she’d find herself in a scene like this, being played with by a stranger under the watchful eye of her master, but she feels crazily alive. Only he can make her feel like this, and when she comes, creaming around the fingers of his friend, it’ll be for him and him alone.

But first she has to negotiate her orgasm. Though there’s no attempt at negotiation in the breathless pleas she utters as Daniel’s thumb brushes over her clit, this time with serious intent. ‘Sir, I need to come. Please may I come?’

For a moment, she fears he may refuse, frustrating her even further, but he tells her, ‘Since you ask so nicely, girl …’

That’s all the permission she needs. Closing her eyes, she surrenders to the rising pressure, pussy muscles clenching tight round Daniel’s thick fingers as she comes. Though she tries to be as quiet as she can, mindful that there might be onlookers, she can’t prevent a strangled gasp escaping her lips. The noise is enough to wake the duffer, who looks around for a moment before deciding nothing is amiss and returning to his slumbers.

When Daniel withdraws his fingers, slick with her juices, it seems to break the spell. At her master’s command, she eases her skirt back down to a respectable level, though her knickers remain bunched in her hand.

‘Oh, Robert, you’ve got a treasure here.’ Daniel’s tone is pure envy. ‘If you ever get tired of her …’

Her master shakes his head. ‘I couldn’t give my girl away. Well, not for ever. But if you want to borrow her from time to time …’ He smiles at her, giving her a moment to let the idea sink in. ‘Have you ever been to Leicester, Matilda?’

‘No, sir.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind. London’s a fine city, but sometimes it’s nice to have a change of scene at weekends. Though, of course, we’ll have to find some way of ensuring that even when you’re in Daniel’s charge you adhere to the dress code.’

He gives her hand a squeeze, his touch communicating his pride in her display of submission and the love he feels for her. Then he signals to the waitress, indicating that he’d like a fresh round of drinks, as casual as though they’d simply been discussing academic matters.

She has the impression life is about to get very interesting indeed, but, as long as it makes her master happy, she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Corporate Punishment

Kat Black

‘Wider.’

Arms clasped behind her back, knees stinging where they dig into the coarse twisted fibres of her office carpet, Cate obeys the order without hesitation.

Regardless of the muffled buzz of activity coming from beyond the closed door at her back and the risky choice of location, her blindfolded world is reduced to nothing but the man standing in front of her. Her awareness is narrowed to the commanding tone of his voice, the peppery scent of his arousal, the wet, velvet-on-steel glide of his thick cock between her lips.

‘Deeper.’

The strong hands grasping her head shift their grip to the back of her skull. Fingers fist in her hair and pull, leaving her with no option but to comply. Not that her obedience is in question.

Hot and hard, the erection invading her mouth forces forward. From above, a hiss of pleasure sounds at the same instant as the swollen head lodges in the back of her throat.

Too much! Her gag reflex activates and a series of strangled noises escape as she struggles for breath. For a long moment those hands hold her fast while the contracting spasms close tight around the wide tip of the cock. Then the pressure eases as they release to let her pull back, gasping, choking, eyes watering.

‘Shh.’ Accompanied by a soothing sound the hands move to frame her face, gentle now as they tilt it chin upwards, thumbs wiping at the tears trickling from beneath her blindfold in a gesture of impossible tenderness. ‘Good girl.’

No sooner has the worst of her coughing subsided than the touch hardens again, once more taking charge and positioning her to allow the erection to push all the way back in past her still gasping lips – slowly, inexorably, stuffing her mouth full of hot, hard cock.

Cate moans and shudders, stretching her jaw wide and opening her throat to accommodate the unyielding size, even as she squeezes her thighs tight, seeking to ease the fire pulsing between them. Her nipples ache where they’ve been left exposed to the air-conditioned room, her bra and half-unbuttoned shirt roughly anchored beneath her breasts. The puckered buds stand to full attention, tingling in anticipation of a touch that never seems to come.

She’s been burning for ever, it seems – kept at fever pitch while the man at whose feet she kneels takes his time establishing his absolute authority, reducing her to nothing more than this quivering heap of want. By contrast, his voice and actions remain cool and composed as he toys with her, taking what pleasure he desires, exactly as he desires it.