Over the Desk Read online

  He took a bite and my heart sank as his smile and twinkling eyes changed to a frown and narrowed slits. He spit the cookie out into a napkin.

  “What do you call these? They’re disgusting.”

  “But I followed the recipe exactly, Mr. Stone.”

  “Are you saying there’s something wrong with my mother’s recipe?”

  A chill went through me at the look on his face. For three months I’d done everything right. A slice of fear settled in the pit of my stomach as he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up his arms in careful, deliberate motions.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you, Beth.”

  “Punish me?”

  “I told you there would be consequences if you displeased me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Lean over the desk with your arms in front of you.”

  Feeling foolish I leaned over resting my upper body on the gleaming oak finish, my arms stretched out in front of me. I turned my head to look at him. He looked down at me, disappointment clouding his eyes. He shook his head sadly.

  “I’m not going to enjoy this but it needs to be done.”

  A shiver of anticipation coursed through my body. He stood, pushed his chair in and walked around the desk. I could no longer see him but I could feel his presence behind me.

  A rush of cold air made me gasp when he lifted the skirt of my dress around my waist. I tried not to squirm. The waiting was driving me crazy.

  He hooked his fingers into the top of my panties and pulled down. Bare ass exposed to his hungry gaze I fought the urge to stand up straight, pull my skirt back down and run out of the room.

  But I needed this job. Needed everything Mr. Stone could teach me.

  A rough palm cupped one of my ass cheeks then a “whack” filled the air as his hand connected hard on my naked flesh. The sting of the slap lingered for seconds but just before the pain dissipated he spanked me again.

  And again.

  Each stinging slap sent a pulse of electricity through me. The pain was delicious. It joined the throbbing need in my pussy to turn me on like I’d never been turned on before.

  I waited for the next spank. His hand connected with my ass harder this time pushing me farther onto the desk. A soft groan fell from my lips.

  “Do you like that, Beth?”

  I shook my head. “No, sir. It’s punishment but I take it gladly if it pleases you.”

  He spanked me again. Needles of pain radiated out from the spot on my ass that he kept slapping. I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning in pleasure. If I admitted that I liked it would he stop?

  “Stand up straight.”

  I complied but didn’t turn around.

  “Step out of your panties and go stand next to my chair.”

  I gingerly lifted my legs out of my panties and walked over to his chair. My ass stung, the material of my dress making it worse when it brushed against my tender skin.

  He sat then opened the top drawer of his desk and withdrew a paddle. It reminded me of a ping pong paddle but it was all smooth wood. I gulped.

  “Over my knees.”

  About to protest, I thought better of it and stretched across his lap. He pulled my skirt up again and with no further warning slapped me hard with the paddle.

  I jerked, rubbing against his crotch. Pain and pleasure raced through my body. This time I couldn’t help it, I moaned.

  “You want more of that?” he asked.

  “No, sir.”

  He connected the paddle with my stinging cheeks again. I whimpered, cried out. Squirmed a little over his lap. The tell tale hardening of his cock brought a smile to my lips.

  “It sounds to me like you’re enjoying this.”

  “No, sir.”

  He whacked my ass harder, faster with the wooden paddle. Each time it connected with my skin searing heat momentarily dulled the pain.

  Then pain exploded through my body.

  I bit my lip to keep quiet as he continued to spank me. I didn’t want the punishment to end. Every time he spanked me my pussy got wetter. My body brushed ever so slightly over his crotch with the force of each blow.

  The hard length of his cock pressed into my belly.

  He placed the paddle on the table and gently helped me stand again. He was silent for a few moments then reached into the drawer again, pulling out a silver butt plug.

  "I'm going to insert this and you're to keep it snug inside your ass all day."

  I backed away but stopped when he frowned at me. "I can't wear that."

  Anger flashed in his eyes. "So you won't take this in your ass? Is that what you're telling me?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then I guess you'll have to take this." He grabbed his crotch.

  A sizzle of excitement raced through me. Before I could speak he stood and unzipped my dress. The garment fell to my feet. He took my hand urging me to step out of the dress now at my feet.

  He unhooked my bra and sent that to the floor as well. I stood in front of him completely naked, vulnerable, waiting for instruction. I didn't want to displease him again. If he wanted to fuck me in the ass I would let him, I would like it.

  "You understand that you still need to be punished, right?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He reached into that desk again, pulling out lubricant and a condom.

  "Lean over the desk again. Display that ass for me."

  I bent over the desk. He didn't even give me the satisfaction of taking off his clothes in front of me. I heard the swooshes as his shirt, pants and underwear hit the floor.

  I'd imagined what he looked liked without the tuxedos and suits but had never caught a glimpse of the hard body I knew lay beneath. Even through the suits I could tell his abs were toned, his legs muscled.

  He flicked the tube of lubricant open and squirted some between my cheeks. The cool liquid soothed me. I tried to relax, tried to imagine what he was doing now.

  With deft fingers he spread the lube over my puckered hole. He pushed a finger inside me but stopped when I gasped. I lifted my ass a little higher for him.

  "Punish me, sir."

  He pushed his finger farther. Despite my refusal to wear the butt plug I wondered now what it would feel like to have it inside me all day as instructed. If it felt anything like his finger pushing into me I should have obeyed him.

  He squirted more lube and slipped a second finger into my hole. I sucked in a breath and tried to relax my muscles.

  I heard the sound of the condom wrapper being torn open. A few seconds later he pulled his fingers out of my ass and pressed the tip of his cock against my puckered hole.

  He went slowly, pushing in inch by inch, stopping each time until I became accustomed to his cock where one had never been before.

  He squirted more lube on his sheathed cock then pushed into my body starting a gentle rhythm. With every stroke out my hole gripped him tightly. He grunted and groaned behind me.

  Beads of sweat landed on my back as he fucked my ass. I splayed my arms across the desk again taking my punishment like a good girl.

  His hands gripped my hips to keep me steady as he pounded into me. My clit pulsed with each stroke. If he kept up his pace I would come.

  I didn't know if that was allowed so I fought my impending orgasm. Focused on the pleasure every thrust brought me.

  His thrusts became faster, more urgent. His grunts louder. Before he could come he pulled out of my ass. I groaned, wanting him to keep thrusting into me.

  But I couldn't tell him that. This was supposed to be punishment.

  He pulled off the condom and tossed it into the garbage bin beside his desk.

  "Turn over."

  I stood up and turned around. He picked me up and set me on the desk. My ass still stung from the spankings and I tried not to squirm.

  His body was just as I had imagined it. Broad shoulders, chiseled abs, muscular thighs. A light smattering of hair made my fingers itch to caress him. His cock was thick and l
ong and still rock hard.

  He bent his head and I thought he was going to kiss me. That I was finally going to feel those lips on mine. But he went lower and clasped a nipple in his mouth.

  He pulled the hard peak into his mouth and sucked hard. I arched into his mouth silently urging him to suck harder. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive peak.

  Moisture pooled between my legs again, my pussy aching to be filled. He slipped a finger into my wet core. With a grunt of satisfaction he pulled it out and grinned.

  He took my legs and wrapped them around his waist then he thrust his cock into me. He plunged hard and deep, his balls slapping against my ass with every thrust.

  I wanted him to go harder and faster but he was in control. I took him into me, enjoying every plunge. He pulled out, pushed back in again.

  Every thrust brought me closer to coming but I fought it. I knew if I came without permission I would be punished again.

  Next time I might not enjoy the punishment so much. There would be no hiding a contracting pussy around his eager cock. I thought of anything else to chase the orgasm away.

  I made the mistake of looking down as he plunged into me. Seeing the joining of our bodies like that, the gentle glide as he pushed into my pussy.

  The ease with which he slid out again conspired to make me come. I took a deep breath and fought it off.

  He grabbed my hips again, lifting me a little higher so he could plunge into me deeper. I bit my lip. With a few quick thrusts his face contorted as if in pain. He clenched his ass.

  He came deep inside me, his semen hitting the walls of my pussy. Even as the pleasure continued to race through my body panic quickly followed. His cock continued to jerk inside me spilling more of his seed. He'd taken me without any protection. What if I was pregnant now?

  I shoved the thought aside. Right now all that mattered was pleasing Mr. Stone. Becoming the perfect companion that he desired.

  He would help me become the perfection he wanted.

  If I had to endure punishments like this when I screwed up I would gladly succumb to improve myself. I would improve for him. It was the least I could do for all he had done for me so far.

  He pulled out of me and semen dripped down my thighs. Out of breath, I sucked in air. I kept my gaze down waiting for him to tell me what to do.

  How to be perfect for him.

  "Good girl. I have a meeting but I'll be back in a few hours. Clean up this mess." He gestured to the clothes on the floor and the pool of semen collecting on the floor. "And make a new batch of cookies. A good batch."

  "Yes, sir."

  I nodded and got off the desk. I gathered my clothes not sure if I should put them back on or not.

  "And get dressed," he said.

  "Yes, sir."

  I pulled on my clothes and gathered up the tray of sweets. By the time he got home his office would be spotless. And I would have a perfect batch of cookies waiting for tasting.

  All that mattered was perfecting myself for him. I would do everything I could, take any punishment he deemed necessary to give him that perfection.

  And if I messed up every once in a while on purpose he would never have to know.

  STRETCHED AND PUNISHED

  PROLOGUE

  Before I started sleeping with Mr. Black, I was an independent woman. A confident, ambitious girl who knew what she wanted and never took any shit from people she didn’t like.

  And I was reckless. A real slut, in fact.

  I’d fuck any guy I needed to if it got me closer to my goals. Even for the smallest favor.

  Once, I sucked a guy’s cock in the bathroom stall of a church just so he’d hire me as his wedding photographer. I was taking pictures of him getting married later that afternoon.

  Of course, he looked like a perfect, happy in love groom, ready to embark on a lifetime of loyalty to his wife. If only my lens could expose the shithead underneath.

  But as a struggling photographer, I did what I had to do. Every action had purpose behind it, even the ones I was utterly ashamed of. I would do whatever was required for success.

  I may have done lots of things I’m not proud of, but it was all on the path toward a greater fulfillment. To realize my dream of being a professional.

  Until I met Mr. Black, the rich and powerful man who now dictates every aspect of my life.

  Now, I don’t dare even to take a shit without his permission. I’ve lost control over my life, my own sense of purpose.

  The old me would still have some form of self-respect. Until Mr. Black came into my life, I was the master of my own ship. Now I’m hardly a deckhand.

  Maybe that was his plan all along. To systematically destroy my will. And I’ll admit that a part of me wanted him to. I can’t deny that I allowed him to do it. I let him sap me of every ounce of dignity.

  Because I am in love with him.

  Because I am his obedient little submissive. And in truth, I like it this way.

  What is there left to fear when every decision in your life is given to someone else?

  Still, there’s a pestering little voice buried deep inside that Mr. Black just can’t seem to stamp out. It urges me to be naughty just for the sake of thrill.

  The tiny remnants of disobedience.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Come in, Delilah.”

  “Yes, sir.” My black heels click against the marble floor of Mr. Black’s office as I step inside.

  “And close the door behind you.”

  “Yes, sir.” With both hands full of the things he’d requested, I move to tuck a manila envelope underneath my arm to free up one hand. The envelope slips from my grasp and tumbles to the floor, spilling its contents of polaroids. For a moment, I just freeze.

  “I’m waiting, Ms. Palmer…”

  “Yes, sir!”I scramble to pick up the mess, regretting my hesitation. “Sorry, sir…” I stuff the scattered photographs back into the envelope, not wasting any time to stack them neatly again before getting up to close the mahogany door. The polished brass of the handle catches the morning light spilling in from the glass wall behind Mr. Black.

  The air of his presence is dominating. When I turn to face him, I have to immediately avert my attention rather than look him in the eyes. The quick jerk causes a stray lock of hair to fall over my glasses, and I pretend instead to be interested in the urban landscape behind him.

  I make a casual sweeping motion to put the hair back in place while advancing toward his desk, trying my best not to blush.

  “I… I have the negatives you were asking for.”

  “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Mr. Black asks, swiveling in his chair before getting up. His glossy black shoes sink into the plush red carpet surrounding the desk. He’s holding something behind his back, but I can’t tell what.

  “Y—Yes, sir.”

  He studies me a moment, letting his eyes rest on my cleavage behind a white blouse. Then he pauses when his notices my peep toe pumps, the glint of red nail polish peeking through at the ends.

  “That color looks ridiculous on you,” he says while his head gives a subtle, disappointed shake.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you really agree, or do you think that’s what I want to hear?” He raises an eyebrow, attempting to catch my gaze before I avert my eyes. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Delilah?”

  “No, sir.”

  He extends a hand with a look of expectation. I stand there a moment, unsure of what he wants. He taps against the polished wood desk, starting to look impatient. Oh shit, the photographs!

  “S—sorry sir! Here they are!” I reach beneath my arm, fumbling with the folder, nearly dropping it again. His eyes squint with a certain annoyance, fixing on me while I spread the negatives across the desk’s surface. He leans over the desk with his arms propping himself at either end while his laser beam gaze makes me self-conscious about my every movement.

  My hands begin to shake as I lay the photos out in order, four b
y four, just the way he wants. I had been photographing for next month’s cover model, and each polaroid was a different pose. Mr. Black had specific instructions for me to order them by my personal preference. He insisted that he review them in black in white only, and there always had to be exactly sixteen for him to look at once.

  When I’ve placed the last polaroid down, his head tilts down at last to the pictures before him. He scans the negatives, giving each a cursory glance.