Hired! ~9~

He wondered, very briefly, which of them was in control at this moment. She was a mash up of shy/bubbly, bossy/submissive.

And she was being a massive cock tease.

It would be a lie to himself to not admit that she had grabbed him by the short and curlies with that one, naughty whisper,

“I’m not wearing any”

when he’d asked her to remove her panties. So much for her prim and proper act, he mused as he slid into the drivers seat.

“So, dancing?” she said, her eyes twinkling as she snigged her seatbelt into the lock.

“Oh indeed,” he replied as he buckled his own. For just a heartbeat they were facing each other. His fingers snagged her chin and he pulled her closer still, then kissed her mouth. It was firm, but brief. He felt her yielding, leaning just a bit further into his space. He shrugged mentally, then deepened the press of his mouth to hers, spearing his tongue into her mouth and tasting her.

His other hand wanted to rise, wanted to take her breast and pinch and tug it, wanted to mimic what his mouth was doing to her lips. But he broke the kiss off, and started the car.

“Dancing, coming right up,” he said.


It was ridiculous. His kiss had her all stirred up. She was horny, and needy, and that was on her, but that didn’t mean she needed to roll out the red carpet to her pussy just because his lips were magical.

Not magical, for geeze sake.


Just….she paused in her thinking attempting to tamp down her suddenly raging desire.  He gave a fucking damn good kiss. She could live with that. But boy, she had wanted him to yank her out of her seat, maul her tits, make her sit on his lap and ride him until they were both a messy pile of sweat and…

She broke off that thought, too. Clenching her thighs, she gave herself a stern talking-to.

You are not going to get involved here.

This guy fired you,  for fucks sake!

Okay, maybe he didn’t actually fire you, but he started it.

She rolled her eyes at herself.
“I’m beginning to see that when you go through all these head gestures, that you’re carrying on some sort of internal dialogue. Am I featured in it?”

His voice jolted her back to awareness. Where were they, anyway? She wasn’t that familiar with town, and in the darkness it was hard to say where, exactly, they were.

“What?” she said, realizing that he was awaiting her reply.

“Oh, no,” she said immediately. “No, you weren’t in the conversation.”

“I’m aware. Since I was silent and you were bobbling your head like…one of those bobble-head dolls.”

Her shoulders straightened. This, this was the thing he did that so got under her skin! He compared her to the stupidest things! She would not even dignify that with a reply, just turned a steely glare at him.

He laughed, of course.

“You’re a child,” she said.

“We’re here.”

She looked out the window. He’d driven her to the club. Her mouth opened, closed. If she said anything, he’d know that she …what she…

She could almost hear Savannah in her head saying ‘so what if he knows? why not enjoy the ride?’

Well. She breathed deeply as he exited the car, coming to her door like a gentleman. Which he wasn’t.  The door opened, and his hand appeared.

“You’re not a gentleman.”

“Sure I am. Here.”

He knew. He knew that she knew what this place was. And was warning her that this nice guy stuff ended at the door. A flush of nerves ran down her spine, fast as heat-lightning dashing across a summer sky.

In for a penny… she breathed, and took his hand.


They weren’t even stopped at the door. One head nod to himself and the bouncer just pressed the damn buzzer to allow them entry. When she’d come in, there’d been a barrage of questions. Which she totally understood. But the head nod, that indicated that he wasn’t just a casual visitor. He was known here. He gave her no more time to ponder; sliding his arm around her lower back, he guided her inside.

They walked into a wall of noise. Conversations pitched to be heard over a thumping beat.  He guided her to the bar, leaned over.

“Mamma,” he yelled to the woman who had counseled Kat earlier in the week.

“My prince has arrived,” she crowed, hustling down the length of the bar with a welcoming grin. “Oh, and look who you have with you. Hello again, my little friend! You’re in good hands with this one,” she winked, gesturing with a finger bedecked with a series of thin gold rings to her knuckle. “Just exactly who I would have picked for you, little one.”

“MammaLa,” Kat said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “I thought he was taking me dancing.”

“There are all kinds of dancing, yes?” Mamma laughed loudly as Kat threw a quick glance behind her shoulder.

“Mamma,” He chided. “Don’t scare her off…that’s my job.”

“I am not scared of you, not one bit,” she said, her back stiffening.

“Not yet, he said, his voice faux-foreboding.

“That’s the worst Vincent Price impression I’ve ever heard,” she said.

“You attempt to deflate my ego yet again. C’mon, let us dance.”

He tugged her arm and twirled her in a fast spin.

“But not here, I think.”

With another of those nods to yet another Watcher, they passed through a door marked PRIVATE, leaving the main bar behind. Neither saw MammaLa’s wide grin as she watched.

“There’s gonna be some fun there. Those two were tossing sparks off of each other like a summer meadow of fireflies!”


“You know.”

They were sitting in a corner of a large room. A room filled with a wide-ranging group of people, and a huge assortment of toys and equipment. Toys mean for pain, for pleasure.

“Of course.”

They locked gazes until a particularly loud shriek from across the room caused her to drop her eyes first. Damn him,  she thought.

“How? I mean…Alex?”

“Of course not. Do you think I listened to anything he said about you? I knew after a few very short minutes that he and you had been intimately involved, and that it didn’t end well. And here you are, a thousand plus miles from him, which speaks volumes, Katherine.”

She guessed she hadn’t thought of that, really.

“I wanted a change.”

His thumb caressed that sliver of skin between her thumb and forefinger. She hadn’t even realized he was still holding her hand. When she would have tugged it free, he would not relinquish it.

“Mine. For now. Don’t fight me. Just be, Kat. Remember, NO is always an option.”

The pause was to allow her time to say it, but she couldn’t. The groundswell of need was rushing through her, flooding her with feelings and sensations she’d thought she’d put away.

“So you came here a few days ago. I was driving in as you were driving out. You didn’t see me, but I did see you. And it clicked for me.”

“Well….” What could she possibly say to that. “I’m probably going back home.”

“Really? When you have such a great job, with a delightful boss?”

“You are not a delight.”

Now she did tug her hand free.

“You’re dictatorial, unorganized, refuse to relinquish control of anything to anyone.”

“Which is why I need you.”

“You say that now, when we’re here…” she waved her hand around the room. “I’ve done that dance before, mister, and it didn’t work so well for me.”

“It is hard to fuck the boss.”

She blinked.

“Well…when you put it that way, yes. It’s nearly impossible to have a relationship…a working relationship…and a sexual relationship with the same person.”

“I rather think that depends on the people involved. Your last lover was an asshole. As a boss? Totally an asshole. What I do here is not the same as out there in the real world. There has to be a distinction, Katherine. I can’t go around asking for you to work on your hands and knees and still run my company professionally. For all I teased you before, I simply can’t be your sexual partner at work. We’d have to turn all that off. But here? Or at home? Oh, that’s where the fun begins.”

“So, you’re saying there’s no fun at work?”

“Blowjobs under the desk? Your panties in my pocket,  fucking over my desk? Not likely! There’s always so much work that needs doing, as you may recall.”

“That’s exactly why you needed me. You need to trust me, and delegate…not just to me but to others on the staff. We’re there to help you, you jerk.”

“Did you just call your boss a jerk?”

“Mr. Jerkface Jackson, right? If the name fits…”

“You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

She smirked at him. He mimicked her expression. She broke first, again, and dissolved into giggles.

“Your face,” she said between laughs. “OMG, you’re such a nutjob! I wish I didn’t like that about you.”

“You’re a smartass. I wish I didn’t like that about you.”

He rose from the table, and took her, not by the hands, but by the wrists.

“Now, my dear, I think it’s time we dance.” 

“You’re going to play all suited up like that?” she queried, in part to tamp down the mix of nerves and lust.

“No, I’m going to the men’s room to go don my leather pants and bare my chest.” He puffed out his pec’s and she giggled again.

“You are not!” she laughed.

“What, you think I can be a Dom without my skintight leather pants?” She laughed harder.

“I doubt you need to play dress up, but if it’s what you need, far be it from me to stop you.”

He tugged her hard so that she fell against him. His mouth brushed her ear as he whispered

“that is not what I need, little girl.”

His mouth moved down the column of her neck to the tender place where neck and shoulder met. His lips traced a tickley line there, making her shiver and giggle at the teasing sensation.

When his teeth closed on the damp flesh, she moaned, then squealed as the ache built. His hands had let her arms go, but they came to her shoulders, holding her close as he nipped his way back to her ear. A hand grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, and baring her throat to his mouth. Kisses and bites moved slowly across the soft flesh, around and up to her jaw, before he found her mouth again.

He took. He ravaged. He pillaged. She moaned.

When he stepped back, she stood, swaying, trying to get her bearings. The bites gave a gentle throb, matching the one that was growing between her thighs. OH, this was a bad idea, she thought, but there was no way she was stopping now.

Her hand touched her bottom lip, swollen from his savage mouth. She felt the hard nubs of her nipples, yearning for his touch. He had her, she knew it. She would be mad at him later, for certain. Her eyes followed his hands as they slipped of his suit coat, laying it carefully over the chair, as he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, as he slipped the tie from around his neck and advanced towards her. Those hands! How she wanted them on her.

“Let me?” he asked, holding the tie out.

Without a trace of reluctance, she placed her wrists upon it. He tugged a slip knot around  them, pulled her close for a moment and kissed her nose, then led her across the floor.


Hired! ~6~

Staring around her bedroom, she could hardly believe that a cyclone hadn’t blown through it. She ran a hand through her already tangled hair.

“I won’t,” she said staring at one outfit on the bed.

“No. Just. No.” Her gaze had fallen on the curtain hook where yet another outfit hung dejected…and rejected.

“I will not dress ‘sexy’for him,” she snarled out loud, using her hands to describe the :sexy: in air quotes. She stalked around her bed, stepping over piles of bra’s and panties, cami’s and one very sexy corset.

“No, no, NO!”

Pausing, chest heaving, she slid to the floor.

“What the fuckity fuck have I gotten myself into?” She moaned, her back to the destruction of what had been a tidy and organized closet.


He made the arrangements himself, since he didn’t have an assistant today. He’d correct that shortly, but he could make do for one day.  He glanced over at the tie he’d draped over the back of the chair from yesterday’s…discussion. It was as good a word as any, he reasoned.  He doubted he’d smiled so much in such a short time since he was a kid and got a bike for Christmas. Every time he looked at that tie, he felt ebullient. Christ, he might just have it framed.

Tearing his eyes from the pizza-soiled strip of silk, he turned back to the pile of papers on his desk, resisting the urge to glance at his wristwatch again. Had a Friday ever lasted so long?  He opened his drawer, and withdrew a pen. Then opened the drawer again to marvel at its contents, all so neatly organized. It made him think of her. Not just the amazing ways she made his days easier, though she had. But the look of her, her curvy figure and sweet face. And the sound of her voice, from that slightly snippy tone she took when she was annoyed with him, to the sweet sound of her giggles when he managed to amuse her. The way she poked and prodded him to do things she felt he needed to do. She was funny, too. She made great coffee, and she put people at ease, even if she was not going to let them see him.  She was strict, and demanding in her own right, but when he used his Boss Voice, she was also sweetly subservient. Such a dichotomy of a woman. By damn he wanted  her back in his office.

And by damn he wanted her in his bed.


“I don’t know,”  she moaned into the phone.

“Kat.” There was the no-nonsense voice she needed. “You just need to choose an outfit. One. Fucking. Outfit. Why are you making such a thing out of this?”

“It’s a revenge date! Not a date-date. It’s a “you fucked up my tie and now I’m going to mess with your head” date. For gosh sake, Savannah, he TOLD me to dress sexy for him. Why on Earth would I obey?”

“Uh, gee, I dunno,” her friend replied in her best brain-dead voice. “Maybe because you’re a submissive? Maybe because you like to dress sexy?”

“Well, yeah I get that, but I don’t want him to know that!”

“No, you don’t want him to win!  her friend retorted quickly.

“Fuck you!” Kat growled into the phone.

“You wish,” Savannah giggled.

The two erupted in laughter.

“Wear the sexah dress,” Savannah intoned in her funeral parlor mortician voice.

“I DOAN WANNA…” Kat moaned. “Doan waaaaannnnnnaaaa….”, though she walked over and picked up the sexy thing.

“Put that on right now and take a picture to prove to me that you did.” Her friend switched to Domme voice.

“Not. Fair.”

“I’m always fair. Just sometimes unkind. Do it.”

Her friend knew how to make Katherine respond, and just  now she needed a push.

“I’ve got my black boots, on,” Savannah said firmly. Her friend moaned.

“Damn you. Fine. Just…you’re not the boss of me.”

“No, I’m not the boss of you. But I am a boss. Be ready…soon. It’s nearly 8 where you are, you know.”

There was a sound of rustling fabric.

“Okay, I’ll send the fucking picture to you soon. Like 5 minutes.” She clicked off, and all but leapt into the dress. It looked like bandages wrapped around her, silky black fabric covering the important bits, with sheer black lace inserted in interesting places. A hint of side boob, a flash of hip, the curve of her bottom. Oh, it hid everything it needed to, but it alluded to so much more.

This might just kill him, she mused to herself, posing in the mirror. Quickly she snapped the pic, and sent it to her BFF. The reply text came back just as the doorbell chimed. She looked at it quickly, then gave a quick cheep of alarm.

I sure hope he takes you someplace to fuck you, because he might faint from the shock of  seeing how you keep your bedroom…!

Looking again at the pic she’d sent, she realized just what she’d captured in the background. Turning, hands on hips, she looked around at the disaster she dubbed “First Date Dressing Syndrome”. Surely there was a chapter or two allotted to this problem in the Psychological Journal, right?  Because this whole first date thing was definitely fucking with her psyche. Shaking her head, she heard the chime again. It sounded impatient, just like him.

“Keep yer pants on” she yelled at the door, certain he couldn’t hear her.

She opened the door, to find him leaning negligently against the jamb, fingers busy at his belt.

“Oh, hi Katherine, I was getting impatient about you not answering your door so I thought I’d take my pants off and try again.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and he laughed.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re beautiful.” She shook her head, gestured him inside her apartment, praying that she’d remembered to shut her bedroom door.

He took her arm, swinging her around as she closed the apartment door.

“Oh!” she said, before his mouth came down on hers, kissing her firmly. His mouth was not gentle, but exploring. Lips pressing hers, then moving to the corner of her mouth, the top lip, the bottom lip, before parting hers. His tongue slipped between them, and when she would have pulled away, his hand came up and cupped her head, holding her steady as he plundered her mouth.

When he broke from her, she was panting, head swimming, lips trembling.

“I wanted to get that out of the way so you wouldn’t be worrying about it all night. Now you only need to wonder if it’s going to happen again.”

He leaned towards her, then whispered in her ear.

“It will.”



Hired! ~2~

He strode into his office and stopped dead in his tracks. He stared around the space that had, up until this morning, been as familiar as his own loft. His desk was moved. His tables and chairs were moved, his every-fucking-thing, moved.  Very little surprised or shocked him these days, but this new girl of his was continually upping the ante on that.  And hell, he could admit that he loved opening his drawers and finding what he needed, whether it was a pen that worked, or his phone charger. He loved knowing that if he gave her a to-do list, it would be done to a T. In less than two weeks, she’d already organized the fuck out of his office, including the offices of two under-secretaries. Hell, if he turned her lose, she’d probably reorganize the entire structure of his offices.

But this. This was a step over the lines. This was his space. His sanctum. He looked around the space again. The chairs had been moved to what was obviously a less imposing conversation area.

But dammit! He liked being imposing.

Still, it did open up the space, and took advantage of the incredible view of the city-scape.

“I figured that since you paid a lot of money for that view, you’d like to actually enjoy seeing it more than twice a day.”

Her voice came from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, a frown still furrowing his brows. He noted that she wore red today, a color not many redheads even attempted.

“You’re not supposed to wear red,” he said.

“Is that a company policy? Because it’s stupid.”

My how her tongue had loosened in the last 13 days.  Drawing a deep breath for patience, he turned fully to her.

“It’s a fashion rule. Redheads don’t wear red.”

“All evidence to the contrary,” she said, swooping her arm from tits to hip.

He could barely look anywhere else but those amazing tits. No cleavage, not for his little prude. But the dress hid no curves.

“Not many would be so bold to wear red, no matter the hair color.”

“Why, because I’m a bit chubby?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Why are we having this conversation? No. Not because you’re soft and stacked. Because red is a bold color. But now that I’m hearing your sassy mouth, I can see that perhaps it’s a color well suited to you.”

“I don’t know why~ you brought it up in the first place. And besides, you haven’t said anything about your office.”  She ignored his “soft and stacked” as if he’d never said it, unwilling to go down that road with him.

“Perhaps because I was struck mute. By your audacity…”

He paused, watching her nostrils flare. Her temper had yet to be fully prodded, though it was tempting. And her chest heaved as she drew a deep breath herself.  Holy hell, he thought, those tits…

Just as she was opening her mouth to speak, he interrupted her.

“…and your vision.”

She drew herself up, fully prepared to defend herself. Yet his words punctured any argument that she was preparing.

“So,” she said, her tone somewhat bemused by the quick change of mood. “You do like it?”

“I do. I see the advantage of the desk being backed up to the bookcases. I can look out the window when I’m on the phone, yet still see who’s at the doorway.”

“Well, you’d know that anyway, since I’d not let anyone through without informing you.”

That too was true. He’d had no interrupted meetings solving temper tantrums and various crises. He nodded absently, walking around the room. He opened the drawer that faced his chair in the round-table form of the conversation area. Inside where pens had previously wrangled for space with elastics, sticky notes, and half-full packets of gum, now there was an organizer inside. Pens which he was certain had all  been tested by her, rested in several compartments. Sticks of gum had been removed from their box but  lay, still wrapped, in a long bowl which may have had prior use as a corn-on-the-cob dish. Paper clips were in a magnetic holder, and sticky notes were likewise in an appropriate bin. It took just a moment for him to look at an organized, efficient system that might have taken her hours to fix for him.

“You really have wrought wonders in here,” he said quietly.

“Thank you Sir,” she said.

Oh, he really liked it when she addressed him as Sir. If only he could lay her across his lap and have her say it when he was spanking that lusciously padded bottom.

“Come, sit a moment,” he said, gesturing to the chair nearest to his.

“I need to get back out there and prepare your agenda for the day.”

“Sit,” he ordered, in his quietly firm Dom voice. He watched her carefully, reading her body as intently he would the latest financial reports.  He’d tried this on her several times, each with the same result. He was sure she was a submissive. Her breath had a little catch to it, he noted, as she complied immediately. He wondered if her pussy got wet when he spoke to her that way. An interesting thing to ponder. He moved to sit beside her, watching the way she watched him, a hint of nerves and perhaps a bit of anticipation.

Interesting indeed, he mused.

Newbie (fini)

part two is here –(and part one is referenced there in case you missed a chapter). I’m pretty happy to finish *this* before starting my next piece. So very “un-nilla”, right?  😀  ~n~

Her lips were stretched uncomfortably wide, her mouth a round “0”.  It wasn’t a perfect O, really,  as it was formed to the shaped of the cock that was sliding towards the back of her throat. She tried thinking about what her lips would really look like,  flexing around the moving shaft. Dang but she couldn’t seem to shut her brain off, even now.  She gagged, feeling her stomach threaten to rise. Somehow that seemed to shut her brain right off.  Well, that and his next words.

“Newbie has a quick gag reflex. We’ll work on that…”

It should have felt…ominous. Instead it felt…right.

“Relax your throat…I’m going all the way in.”

‘right,’ she thought, with the clarity of her ever-overactive brain. ‘relax. yup. that was gonna be possible with the thick pole in her mouth.’ And then she felt the press of male pubic hair tickling her nose. It made her want to sneeze. She struggled, trying to toss her head, but he only moaned in pleasure. She tried yelling but her stomach seemed to feel like it was coming up again. Just when she thought she’d pass out,or gawds forbid, puke all over him,  he pulled out.

“good hot mouth. mmmm” He followed that last sound of pleasure by wiping the slick wetness from the head of his shaft along her cheek.

Those sounds of pleasure from the owner of the hairy crotch above her face gave her pause. She caused that. She was giving pleasure. Sure, she was fucking uncomfortable. Sure her shoulders ached from being spread and tied. Certainly her pussy was screaming from the ongoing buzz. Her nipples throbbed in a way she could never mimic on her own. It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

The cock returned to her mouth, teasing her throat.

“Suck. Suck it hard!”

It wasn’t gentle, but rough. A taking of a slut hole, she thought. The shiver that ran through her was one of perverted pleasure. She was a fucktoy. Not a person, not a senior accountant, not a good neighbor, not anything ‘vanilla’…she was fuckmeat.

The wave of orgasm shuddered through her, part Hitachi, part her own mental pleasure.

The cock slid from her lips with a pop. She was reluctant to let go.

The bed creaked as he moved away, as others moved away.

“You all may go. Your assistance has been appreciated.”

There was a sound of feet moving quietly, a few hushed ‘yes Sir,” and “thank you Sir”‘s then the sound of the door closing. She strained to hear who was left. Was it just him? He of the lovely thick cock. A hand stroked down her chest.

“Let’s take these off now, newbie.”

Fingers worked at the clamps on her nipples, tugging them off quickly. The slap of pain was wildly intense, far more so than when they had been applied.

“Right. They hurt more coming off.”

She heard the laughter in his voice. Bastard.

“That I am, newbie. That I am.”

She blushed, surprised that she’d actually spoken that aloud, but the ache in her tits had been quite unexpected. The pain lingered.  His hand caressed her pussy.

“You’re wet. And ready. As am I.”

There was the sound that she knew was the opening of a condom, and the faint sounds of latex being rolled onto his shaft. Dang if she could only see!  He came close, stroking and pinching her body. She whimpered, yelped, moaned.

“Pleasure and pain, newbie, a heady combination. One which we will enjoy fully together.”

He did mean full, too, damn her hyperactive brain, as he slowly impaled her. Her cunt clamped down around him like it was ready to jump up and shout “hallelujah” as he moved fully into her. One hard hip thrust finished his entry; his balls  lay against her, just against that sensual place where her buttocks began to separate. She moaned. She had never been this full before. Not with past lovers, nor certainly not with silicone cocks. Three fingers pressed into her mouth.

“Suck on these while I fuck you, slut. Consider it practice for later. You’ll have to clean my cock once I’m done.”

She wondered, damn her brain again, if that would be sans condom and wondered how she’d handle that. Then remembered that she didn’t have to worry about that as He would be the one doing the ‘handling’ of the situation. There was great comfort in that. She realized that she really wasn’t a newbie anymore, but had begun the transition to being a submissive, rather than merely dreaming of it.

As he continued to move over and on and in her, she let herself fall, mentally, into another space.

Sub space.