by Misty Kayn
“Because you’re not a mind reader.” I hung my head. “I’m sorry, Master Sam.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I had a bad day at work.”
“Put your sexy little dress on.” He retrieved my dress from the hanger and handed it to me. Once I dressed, he threw a hand over my shoulder and led me up the stairs. “I have an eight o’clock, so I have some time. We’ll do a vanilla shake.”
We climbed the stairs. “What’s a vanilla shake?”
He smirked. “Blended milk with vanilla ice cream.”
Duh! “Right.”
“Pervert.” He winked.
Terrell
An hour after my little girl left, I sat in my office. Occasionally, I twirled in my chair and paused to take in the span of Long Beach under my office. Lights twinkled, traffic crawled, and far in the distance, college students lit bonfires, hoping cops wouldn’t show up before the drunken skinny-dipping times.
I raked a hand through my hair. I should’ve said something about the Friday nights to Karina sooner. I’d had plenty of opportunity, but, selfishly, I didn’t want to ruin our Fridays. While there were plenty of submissives I could play with, I’d gotten comfortable with Karina almost immediately.
We didn’t speak. Sure, at first the silent and completely blind play in the pitch-black room was challenging, but I’d always wanted to kink it just like that. I’d tried with several others before her, but she fit me best, didn’t even mind an occasional love tap on her cheek. Most submissives minded.
Restless, I paced the room, scrubbed a hand over my jaw. By the end of the day, I needed a shave. Might as well stay in the office another night. Nobody waited for me at home. I headed for the bathroom for a shave and caught sight of my play bag on the floor. I’d retrieved the black duffle from the locked closet, fully intent on playing with her tonight right here in the office. Got candles for wax play yesterday. Walking over, I picked up the bag and tried shoving it back into the closet. It didn’t fit. It was as if the closet spit it back in my face.
“God dammit.” I picked up my cell and dialed my mentor.
He answered on the third ring. “Yellow?”
“Not yellow. It’s flashing red lights in my head,” I said.
“Excuse me,” he said, then asked me, “What’s the problem, son?”
I told him everything. I told him how I’d been topping my assistant and how I’d tried to seduce her in my office. Mentors helped newbies in the scene navigate their way through situations.
“You know what your problem is?” Sam said. “That’s a fantasy you should’ve discussed. I realize it takes the fun out of the game, but fuck, I’d sue your ass.”
“Thank you, Sam. Helpful you are.”
“Welcome, Yoda-san. Come on over and play nice. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for at the Cage. I just took her off my cross.”
“What?”
He laughed.
Click.
Was Sam her date? Fucking clusterfuck! On instinct, I grabbed my duffle and rushed out the door, heading for the club. Was I really gonna storm in there and demand my girl?
Yes, I was.
Was I gonna lose my best assistant?
Likely. But love drove people crazy, and I was crazy about her.
Karina
Master Sam’s gentle hand brushed over the top of my head when he returned from a long phone call. “Your Friday night is coming in for a…drink.”
I froze in my step, and for a second, all my troubles faded away. Butterflies fluttered in my belly, and my heart pumped faster. “Maybe I’ll finally get to see him.”
Sam tugged on my arm and mumbled about getting stuck in the middle of drama. He escorted me to the dimly lit bar area where soft rock played low in the background and several people sat around tables on the right. Down on the floor below, people played. Up here, people watched.
“How about that shake?” he asked.
“Can I have iced tea instead?”
“Long Island Iced Tea?”
“Sweet short one,” my boss said.
Wide-eyed, I whipped around. Before I could think with my head, my legs moved my body around him, across the entire bar and up one flight of stairs toward the exit. I pumped my boots faster than Jerry, hoping Tom didn’t catch me before I holed up somewhere for a month. I ran past Helen in the front, threw a quick “Bye” over my shoulder, and hit my forehead on a wall.
I bounced off and landed on my ass. Looking up, I saw my boss rising to his feet and rubbing his chest. I’d run into him and knocked us both on our asses.
“Touchdown,” he said.
Standing, I dusted the dirt off my latex dress, then stood there thinking that had to be the fastest my feet had ever moved. Again I stared, frozen, hoping he’d say something. He walked to me and moved my hair away from my face. He brushed a thumb over my jaw. “Are you all right?”
“I’m trying for the cross-country team,” I said. “It was instinct.”
“Certainly. Or better yet, a rugby team of petrified submissives.”
“There is such a team?”
“Not yet but after this, maybe you’d consider starting one. I’ll start a team of my own.”
I smiled at the playful glint in his hazel eyes as we avoided the craziness of our situation. I realized he was trying to comfort me when he said, “A submissive ran for her life at the sight of me. I’m gonna have some explaining to do.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Master Sam stomped toward us, Helen in tow.
My boss and I started talking at the same time, so I clamped my mouth shut and let him explain. He didn’t. Instead, he said, “Sam, we’ll talk after I speak with…my girl.”
His girl? I didn’t protest. I’d caused enough theatrics. A hand touched mine, and I looked down to see my boss intertwine his fingers with mine.
Then he led me to the Friday room. At the door, I said, “This room is probably reserved.”
“Maybe.”
“We can’t go in there. It’s definitely reserved.”
“I’m sure nobody’ll mind.”
“I’m pretty sure they would.”
“You will come anyway.” He opened the door.
Terrell
“Have a seat, Karina.” I looked at the stretch of couches against the wall and dreaded speaking to my boss right in this room. But when he walked inside, I followed.
He closed the door.
I felt caged in.
I sat on the red couch, wishing we weren’t in this room. Seeing as there was a black duffel on the floor, someone had already reserved it. And seeing as my Friday Sir played in this room, it would be him. He’d walk in here thinking it was empty and available for use. My life couldn’t get any worse. What would my boss say to the leather-man who topped me? Dear sexy aliens, please abduct me right now.
Mr. Jones paced the room, and my gaze followed. “I’m sorry about making you work on Saturdays,” he said. “It’s selfish, but it’s because I like having you around.” Huh? “Is Sam your date in the Cage? I’ll want to speak with him about that.”
“There’s no date. You kept making me work overtime on weekends, and I was annoyed. I’m still annoyed.”
“All right. I’m sorry about spilling coffee on you today. It wasn’t an accident. When you tried to put the coffee down, I moved so the coffee would spill on you and you’d have to get rid of your shirt. I tried to show, not tell, when I should’ve told.” He paused in his step, waited.
Double huh. “Okay. What are you doing here?”
He sat next to me and took my hand in his. He turned up my palm and traced a finger over the middle. “I’m your Friday night.”
Chapter Four
Wide-eyed, I gaped at my boss. “It’s Saturday,” I concluded. A master mathematician, really. “You can’t be my Friday. He’s dirty, and you’re…bare-chested.” I’d never seen him so out of sorts. At all times, Mr. Jones, like his father before him, was well put together.
As if he hadn’t noticed before, he looked down at his chest and chuckled. “Thank God for the tinted windows. I forgot a shirt.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw before he stood and dug into his duffle bag. “We’re gonna do this, and it’s gonna be great,” he mumbled. “On Fridays, I set up before you get here. Now, I’d like you to take five in the corner and think about the man who tops you on Fridays. Can you forget about all this and focus on…no, wait.” He pulled his gaze from the duffel and locked his eyes with mine.
I leaned in.
“Do you think about Friday nights?” he asked.
“Yes.”
A smile spread across his face. “When you think about me, what do you call me?”
“My Friday Sir.”
“Yours?”
I nodded.
“Does thinking about me make you wet?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ah, there we go. That’s great, baby. Let’s pretend it’s Friday.”
“Are we really gonna do this?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“But…but it will be against company policy.”
“I wrote the policy.”
“For a reason, I’m sure.”
“You know why my brother can’t keep an assistant?”
“Because people hate working with him.” Tyrone could be a bit of an ass, and I avoided him.
“That and because my brother banged every one of his secretaries. I got him a man when they all kept quitting their jobs. He banged the guy too. Left me no choice. I wrote the policy.”
Clearly, I lived in my own math-hole in the office since I hadn’t known any of this. “It applies to you too.”
“It does.” He crouched and placed his big hands on my hips. Eye level with my boss, I finally got to appreciate his handsome face. With his dark skin, hazel eyes, and plush lips, I didn’t know how I hadn’t noticed before how beautiful he was. “I don’t intend to just bang you,” he said and leaned in so that our breaths mingled. He whispered, “That’s the difference. I’m gonna tie you up to the bench over there”—he pointed—“with your ass hanging. I’m gonna flog your ass and your little pussy, and by the time I start, it better be wet for me. I’m gonna lick it and fuck it.”
“Oh my God.” I cupped his face, and he kissed me. At first it was gentle, a peck of lips as he tested, but then I closed my eyes, opened for him, and let him wet my panties with slow strokes of his tongue in my mouth.
“The only words,” he said at my lips, “I want to hear for the next hour are…?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And the alternative is…?”
“Red.”
“My girl?”
“Yours.”
“Get in the corner.”
Terrell
Rope-bound with her arms crossed over her chest and hands cupping her tits so she could play with her nipples, she lay belly up on the bench while I fixed the spreader bar between her ankles. Since her pussy was in my face, I stuck my tongue out and licked the length of her slit, then paused at her clit and flicked the swollen bud a few times.
She tried to arch her back.
I flicked my girl’s pussy with the tip of my tongue again. “Mmm. Do you think about my tongue?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“It’s big and pokes real nice. Do you touch yourself while you think about me?” I stuck my tongue inside her and moved it while watching her wiggle in restraints. Karina tasted not like peaches but like a woman, and my cock twitched. I clamped my teeth over her bud and got a yelp in return.
She lifted her hips, and I sucked, dipping one finger inside, lingering one more at the entrance. She lowered her hips back down, and when I didn’t move my finger inside her, she lifted up and down on her toes. “Oh yes, Sir, yes, yes.”
I leaned back with a smirk and took my finger away. From the towel and the things I’d prepped next to my knee, I got lube and a mean-looking glass butt plug. The thing about glass plugs? Inside a warm pussy, they’d be cold and heavy.
I showed it to her.
Her eyes widened. “Too big.”
I smiled. Eh, she’d probably like it better if it were even bigger. I rubbed her tight hole with my wet finger to get the outside all coated in her pussy juice.
Before starting, I checked the three jasmine-scented candles I’d placed against the opposite wall. Candles were romantic. Girls loved romance, and I was gonna romance her while I beat her a little. All set, I started pushing the plug into her ass.
The insertion was a favorite part for me, something very hard to do when playing in a lightless room on Fridays. A favorite because I hadn’t done it with her and also because now I got to watch her little lips form an O as I began shoving the plug inside. I knew she wanted it in faster rather than slower so she could get past the uncomfortable and settle into the “uncomfortable but oh so aroused” state. I didn’t rush the insertion and pulled back at the widest part of the plug, then started over, ignoring her pleas. Those little pleas seeped into the parts of me that craved her on Fridays. The parts that had made me hide my identity even after I’d recognized her. I didn’t want to lose this connection, the energy we made together.
When I pulled the plug back the third time, she lifted her head as if ready to protest.
“Yes?” I lifted an eyebrow.
My girl made a pain-filled face, and I poked her pussy with my finger while circling the plug around her hole. She clamped her inner walls around my finger, held on to it for dear life. “When you touch your pussy, what comes to your mind that makes you come?”
She didn’t answer.
I plastered my lips around her clit and sucked. Hard.
“Oh! Oh my! Okay, okay, I don’t come.”
I stopped and looked up. She edged herself? “Why not?”
“Oh God.”
I hit something big here. Karina was shutting me off, not willing to talk about it. So I pushed another finger inside her and asked, “Why are you denying yourself?”
My girl sighed and looked at the wall on one side. “Because if I don’t come, I feel like you’re with me the entire week. It keeps me going and coming back on Fridays, and you never leave me without getting me off, so it works for me.”
This struck me. Slowly, I placed the plug inside her all the way until her ass closed over the thin rim. Then I rose and placed both palms on the bench on either side of her head so I hovered above her. I did this on purpose. When I locked eyes with her, I pressed her to answer me. Especially in this room and now. “What are you saying?” I asked.
Discomfort clouded her brown eyes, but I couldn’t let it go. I hunted for the answer I hoped for. I could tell she wanted to avert her gaze and look anywhere else. And I could tell she forced herself not to because that would certainly displease me. Karina crammed her feelings down and locked them up. Half the time at the office, I didn’t know how she felt about anything, and she rarely voiced her honest opinion. A stuck-up executive, the other secretaries called her. So now that I had her, I wanted her to open up. I had opened myself.
Karina
Sir asked if I’d subbed for him when he wasn’t around. In a way, I had pretended to sub for him. I would save my pleasure for him. When masturbating, I restrained myself from coming. It was a form of power play; restraining my pleasure so I could give it to him on Fridays even if he didn’t ask me for it. Self-imposed orgasm denial.
Nobody had to know but me, and even I didn’t want to admit why I touched myself and didn’t let myself come. But he expected an answer, and I couldn’t lie. “When we first started out, I didn’t think I wanted anything more than impact. Little by little, our scenes changed and grew. The rest of my week started changing too. I didn’t want to come anymore.”
“Why not?”
“It makes me feel like the play goes on for the entire week.” I pinched my lips together.
“Do you want the play to go on for the entire week?”
In past weeks, after wo
rk, when I got home and slipped under my cozy bedsheets, I thought about my Friday Sir. “When I touch myself, I imagine you standing near my bed and removing your leather clothes. Then you slip under my sheets and…well, and replace my fingers with yours.”
“Do I stay the night or leave?”
Right past his shoulder, on the ceiling, I found interesting cracks.
“Answer me.”
“Stay. Okay. You stay.”
Sir blinked.
Seconds crawled by.
He dipped his head. I lifted mine to meet him halfway. Our lips touched, and I pushed my tongue into his mouth. This got his eyebrows to lift in surprise, but his eyes crinkled at the corners at my attempted assault from the bottom.
“You are starving,” he told me. His hand snuck to the back of my head and angled it so that he could control my mouth. He kissed me like he owned me. I felt the kiss brush my soul. I had been starved. I hungered for a Dominant, not just a Top on the weekends. I couldn’t admit it, because I didn’t even know who he was. Now that I did know, I wasn’t sure what he’d do about my confession. But I’d said it, and I couldn’t take it back.
After my revelation, Sir made quick work of replacing his suit with leathers. I loved watching him dress up for play. He dressed in black leather pants with easy strings, and a leather vest, his feet left bare. Eyes on me, he slipped his hands into black leather gloves, then took out a long black flogger.
I whimpered, the flogger doing wonders for my quivering pussy.
Sir smirked and stood on my side. “Lift your legs.”
When I did, he gripped the middle of the spreader bar. My ass and the backs of my thighs were left exposed. He flicked his wrist first, the ends of the flogger tickling over my opening before he swung and hit my pussy.