His Boss's Plaything

by Nina Nauheim

  "I -" He gaped at her. Then he scrambled to obey. As his pants reached his ankles his cock was standing out straight in front of him, tenting his underwear incredibly prominently. It was such a strange feeling, standing there in front of her, not trying to hide his arousal but still not really allowed to do anything about it.

  "Good," she purred. "I love a man just quivering there on the edge." She leaned forward and gave the shape in his underwear a little stroke. He groaned helplessly, his cock throbbing intensely in response. He screwed his eyes shut, trying not to erupt right there in his underwear. It was torture.

  "Do you think you'd come if I did that again?" she asked curiously. "I don't think I've ever seen someone quite so wound up."

  "Please," he begged.

  "Don't be so impatient," she instructed. "I want to enjoy this. Take off the underwear."

  In a moment he was naked, standing there in the middle of the office. Her eyes never left him. That same triumphant, predatory look had come back.

  "Good. Let's have a turn, then," she ordered. "Nice and slowly. Cock out. Good."

  He turned obediently, moving his feet in small increments. Forcing himself to be slow and to breathe. The feeling of being on display was incredibly arousing. It seemed like his cock threatened to explode with every hot pulse of blood that rushed into it.

  "Give it one nice slow stroke," she ordered. "But don't you dare come yet."

  He did it as slowly as she'd asked, his fist wrapped around himself, his eyes closing briefly again. His gasping breath made it painfully clear how close he was.

  "You're about to make a mess," she observed thoughtfully. "Go get some paper towels from the bathroom."

  He bent to retrieve his underwear fromin front of her but she kicked lightly at his arm. "Go."

  "Like this?" he asked.

  "I didn't say to get dressed, did I? And go get it from the lady's room. We keep the better stuff there."

  Peter was flushing deep crimson, but he took comfort in the certainty that they were the only two left in the offices. He padded out into the hall and down to the women's bathroom. When he returned to her, he was holding to handfuls of soft paper towel.

  She considered him for a minute. "Alright. You can touch yourself again. Nice and slowly."

  She instructed him through three more agonizing minutes, watching Peter closely to make sure she didn't accidently order him over the edge. She played with herself idly as she watched. At last she was ready for him to come.

  "Alright. Come for me, Peter," she ordered. "Nice and hard."

  It barely took a single stroke once his body had permission. The feeling of release was incredible. Her eyes never left his cock as he shot impotent ropes of come into the paper towel, standing there naked in her office.

  "I enjoyed that more than I thought I would," she complimented him. "You make such an exquisite little toy to play with."

  He took in another deep breath, fighting to get back in control of he body. "Th - thank you," he gasped from where he had collapsed against the wall.

  "We're going to have to keep this between us, of course," she mused. "I feel so selfish, keeping you all to myself. But that's how it has to be."

  "Of - of course."

  "You didn't spill anything, did you?"

  "No."

  "Excellent. Now, come get a goodnight kiss."

  He could feel intensely how the dynamic had changed between them. The stern fondness was still there, but now there was a tinge of ownership. Maybe he had revealed too much of himself, been too willing to obey her commands. Now she knew he would do as he was told. She didn't seem like a woman who passed up opportunities like that.

  "I've given you my home address, haven't I?" she asked him.

  "Yes."

  "Were you planning on working tomorrow?"

  "Saturday? I didn't think we had anything."

  "Good. Come by my house then. I have some things I need you to organize for me."

  "Oh. I - of course. What time?"

  She pursed her lips. "I'm all over. It'll have to be ... " she added something on her fingers. "Let's make it four."

  "Of course."

  "Now, go put your clothes back on and get some rest. We've got a lot to get done tomorrow, and I don't need you falling asleep on me every time I turn my back on you."

  But Peter's mind was racing too fast to fall asleep quickly that night. His thoughts were still tangled in disbelief and his body was still humming. In the morning he couldn't keep his head in anything he was doing, his thoughts just strayed back to Ms. Lancet and those incredible, forbidden moments in her office.

  Around mid-day Ms. Lancet called to bump him up to three pm, and her tone seemed to contain every hint and promise of that experience all over again. Peter could hardly wait. But in the end, it turned out he really was just organizing things for her - bank statements, legal contracts. The dynamic wasn't completely back to the way it had been: she kept slipping in little comments and touches that seemed intended to tantalize. But at the end of the work, she smiled and sent him home. Maybe she just enjoyed seeing him left wanting.

  Over the next few weeks, every interaction he had with her seemed to have that same energy lurking just under the surface. A couple more times on a late evening she pulled him into her office and ordered her to bring her to orgasm like he had the first night. But unlike the first night, she usually didn't let him come. She let him suffer, and only let him leave after he promised he wouldn't bring himself to climax the second he got home.

  Even so, those late worknights became the highlight of his week. Each experience was new and exciting, and Ms. Lancet seemed to love pushing him just beyond his comfort level. It was always a little degrading, but in ways that only made it hotter as he lay in bed reliving it afterwards.

  And when she did give him permission to come, the intensity was indescribable.

  But nothing prepared him for the Sunday perhaps a month after that first night of forbidden contact. He was scheduled to install some new programs on Ms. Lancet's home computer in the evening, and got to her house around 6. Loud voices were coming from inside, but he knocked anyways. The door opened.

  "Peter!" Ms. Lancet said as she looked out.

  "Hello, Ms. Lancet," he said.

  "Didn't you get my message?"

  Peter shook his head, confused. "No. What was the message?"

  Ms. Lancet stepped back and opened the door slightly wider. "I cancelled you for the night. There are a couple of friends here. We were going to play a bit of poker later in the evening but they ended up stopping by early. You've got the night off."

  "Oh, ok, thanks," Peter said, slightly crestfallen.

  She looked speculatively at Peter's disappointed face. "I've never had someone who loved working for me so much. I'm sorry I called so last minute. Why don't you join us for a drink?"

  Peter looked past her, intimidated. He could see two women around a table beyond the entrance hall. They were about the same age as Ms. Lancet, very well dressed, and both were very beautiful. One had dark hair and an elegant, high cheek-boned face and slender body, while the other was blonde, with full lips and a generously proportioned frame.

  "Ah, you think I should?" he asked a little nervously. He was eager to spend time with Ms. Lancet again, but he felt out of place.

  She nodded. "Yes, actually, I think you very much should. We might just have some fun together."

  Peter bobbed and stepped inside, his eyes flicking back and forth between the woman he came to see and her two friends beyond the kitchen. The smell of liquor and cigar smoke hung in the air.

  "Margaret, Layla, this is Peter."

  Peter waved shyly as Ms. Lancet introduced him to each in turn. Margaret was the dark-haired woman, and Layla the full-chested blonde woman to the right.

  He jumped slightly as Ms. Lancet put a hand on his ass to guide him into the room. Wasn't that inappropriate in company like this
?

  She invited Peter to sit next to her as she took her place at the table, and Peter sat obediently. Without much room, he was perched against Ms. Lancet's thigh. She ran an idle hand over his lower back, her nails brushing lightly against him just short of being painful. She offered Peter a sip from her glass and he sampled it, coughing at the intense, biting flavor of the liquid.

  Margaret and Layla eyed him speculatively and in open admiration. Ms. Lancet ran her hand through Peter's hair.

  "This delightful boy is my assistant at work," Ms. Lancet explained to her friends. "But I've been finding other interesting things he can do for me, haven't I, Peter?"

  Peter flushed bright red, looking from Ms. Lancet to her guests. They laughed delightedly at the sight of his embarrassment. It didn't seem outwardly mean-spirited, just that they found Peter's obvious shyness endearing, and Peter started calming down. Friends of Ms. Lancet couldn't be too bad.

  "He's a little unsure," Ms. Lancet noted."I've been enjoying myself very much in educating him. I thought since I was inconsiderate enough to cancel on him at such late notice, we might find something else to keep him occupied and out of trouble somewhere else." She turned to Peter and ran a hand down Peter's spine that unleashed a slight shiver of pleasure at the touch. "Would you like that?"

  Uncertainly, Peter nodded.

  Margaret stood up from her seat across the table and came over to see him. She put a hand out and lifted Peter's face to look up at her. "He's got a good frame," she mused. "He's got a sort of effeminate charm to him, doesn't he?"

  "My thoughts exactly," Layla agreed, eyeing him openly. "We could have some fun with him."

  "Margaret and Layla are fashion designers," Ms. Lancet explained.

  "We make women's clothes," Margaret said. "On our own terms, of course. We don't participate in a lot of the industry rituals, fashion shows and the like. We just find it so degrading for women to be dressed up and paraded around for men. But ... well, I do understand the appeal. Maybe we could have a little fashion show with you. We could get a sense of how our latest designs could be repurposed. We like versatility. We want to give our customer's their money's worth. Would you like to be our little prissy bitch, Peter?"

  Her forwardness startled Peter, and he looked around. He wasn't supposed to say yes, was he? There was something exciting about the way these new women were looking at him in open interest. But ... he didn't know what he wanted.

  Seeing his indecision, Layla took Peter's hand and drew him up from his chair to stand in front of her. She turned him with a prodding hand. "Here," she said. "He has a nice little ass. We could do some good things with him."

  "I think pink would be his color," Margaret mused. "What do you think, Sandra?"

  Ms. Lancet laughed. "I'm no expert. Whatever you think best."

  "Would you like seeing him in pink?"

  Ms. Lancet gave Peter a long, speculative look. "Revealing," she clarified. "Something really intimate."

  "We have the samples in the car, don't we, Margaret?" Layla asked.

  "In the trunk, I think."

  Layla held out a set of keys and jangled them like he was some kind of pet. "It's the Bentley out front. Get the two boxes in the trunk and bring them in."

  He looked from her and then back to Ms. Lancet. Finding no reason or room for objection in their faces, he took the keys and went out to the car. He found the boxes and brought them in, setting them on the poker table.

  Margaret leaned forward and ruffled through the boxes with pursed lips. She held up a couple garments to the light. The glimpses Peter caught of them was enough to make him blush.

  "Well, let's see what we're working with, first of all," Layla suggested.

  "You're right," Margaret agreed. "That's always the place to start."

  Ms. Lancet prodded Peter with her foot. "They want you to get undressed, Peter."

  She informed him without any indication he could refuse. He turned from one to the other as they looked at him expectantly, and then he began to undress. "He's kind of cute when he blushes," Margaret says.

  "Isn't he?" Ms. Lancet agreed.

  Peter's face was flaming by the time his shirt was off. His belt followed and he was mortified to realize he was quickly getting hard. Once he pulled his pants down, it would be impossible to conceal.

  "Go on," Margaret ordered.

  With a shiver, he opened his pants and slid them down to the floor. His erection stood out in front of him and all the women eyed it openly.

  "He's an excitable one," Layla murmured.

  "He'll make the panties sit all wrong," Margaret complained.

  "No, it's fine. We'll work with what we have," Layla disagreed. "And it makes it a bit more fun to know he's secretly enjoying himself, doesn't it? Show me those lacy ones from the first box."

  In a minute they had him naked. Margaret reached out and took his cock in her hand, tugging him closer to her with her grip around his shaft and feeling at the firmness of his ass and stomach as she held him in place. "Alright, we can work with this," she agreed.

  They tried him in several pairs of panties. They were invariably thin, sheer fabrics with lacy frills and accents that made him feel absolutely ridiculous. Yet throughout it all, his cock only got harder. He couldn't deny even to himself that it was intensly arousing to be so brazenly objectified by these women.

  Once they had him in a pair of panties they liked, they tried him a bra and a skirt so short his cock stuck out the bottom. They tried getting the fabric to sit nicely over it, but his shaft kept jumping up into prominence, to their slightly annoyed tisking.

  Eventually they gave up, leaving his cock on display for the rest of the fashion show. They tried him in several blouses, making him walk up and down the length of the living room each time.

  "This one's our best yet," Layla complimented Margaret as he turned slowly around in a light blue camisole.

  "I think we need to see it in action," Margaret mused. "This kind of lingerie is meant for intimate moments, isn't it? Maybe he can help us get in the mood."

  She summoned Peter to her with a wave of her hand. "Sandra tells us she's been teaching you how to eat pussy."

  His blush returned.

  "I'll take that as a yes. Get on your knees and show me what you've learned."

  With a glance back at Ms. Lancet, he did as he was told. Margaret was wearing a loose, sexy red dress that hiked up easily around her hips. It turned out she hadn't been wearing anything underneath it. She covered his head with the hem as his face arrived between her legs, and kept a firm hand on the back of his head as his mouth set to work.

  The women kept up conversation as this went on, with Margaret occasionally complimenting his form or correcting him in some way. Eventually Margaret became quieter and quieter, and then louder and louder again as his efforts were rewarded. She came loudly, grabbing onto him painfully and almost suffocating him between her legs, only releasing him once her climax had fully run its course.

  He was passed over to Layla, and then back to Margaret, and then once to Ms. Lancet and around again. The second time he turned to Ms. Lancet, he saw something in her hand.

  "This is a dildo," she explained to him, belting it to her front. "It's brand new. I've been wanting to find someone to try it out on, and I think you're the lucky winner."

  Margaret went to the couch and sat down, spreading her legs for another round. "Leave the camisole on," she instructed. "It'll make for a better show."

  "Of course," Ms. Lancet agreed for him. "Peter, take off those panties and go eat her pussy. Keep your ass in the air."

  Panting at this point from the exertion and how turned on he was to be used like this, he moved into position. His mouth resumed its activities, licking at Margaret's clit and hole with earnest enthusiasm.

  Margaret's hands caressed him encouragingly as Peter licked and sucked at her. He pulled off the stockings he'd been given and the other women b
egan to undress him as he worked. Hands ran over his body. He pulled back, looking around expectantly, and Ms. Lancet lifted his hips up slightly, pulling away his panties in the process. Margaret moved back to bring Peter's mouth to her pussy.

  The dildo was cold and hard, covered in a slippery lubricant, as it brushed between his ass cheeks. Peter gasped into Margaret's pussy as it entered his tight hole, stretching him and sending a sharp wave of dirty, unfamiliar sensation and arousal through his body. Ms. Lancet's hands squeezed into his ass and Peter flexed back against him instinctually.

  Margaret caressed his back and chest as Peter worked on her pussy, and the sensations of two women objectifying and fucking him were almost overwhelming. He shuddered as a new, intense wave of physical pleasure ran through his tensed body.

  "Should you slow down?" Layla asked Ms. Lancet at the sound of Peter's tight panting.

  "I won't bother this time. If we try to keep him from ejaculating before we want him to, we'll never be able to do anything with him. He comes at just a touch. It's incredibly frustrating."

  And as if to prove her point she picked up her pace, driving harder and harder into him from behind. Unable to stop himself, he orgasmed onto the floor as she thrust into his virgin ass, his tight hole clenching around the cock and shaking in acute ecstasy. Layla took her place and feeling the new woman behind him and inside of him made this new, strange, thrilling experience all the more surreal.

  He felt himself getting close to finishing Margaret, working her with his lips and tongue. But he pulled back, and she and Ms. Lancet moved Peter around so he was lying back against Layla, his ass thrust out and available for more intense access.

  Layla made good use of the position, taking Peter harder and harder, driving hard. Unable to stop himself, Peter exploded in a second orgasm, pumping wet, hot come across his own stomach.

  As he recovered from the incredibly intense experience, one of the women gave him a drink of water. They gave him a seat at the table and he lay back, gasping. They kept an eye on him, wanting to be sure he would be recovered and ready for more soon, but it took a while before he was back in control of himself.