Power Play: Kelsey and the Executive

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Power Play: Kelsey and the Executive Page 2

by Selena Kitt


  Kelsey’s eyes skipped down the line of people waiting to use the copier. She saw Tina, who worked with Steve in personnel. “Whatcha got there?”

  “Lockheed numbers.” She held up the exact same document that both Matt and Steve had copied. “Oliver needs them.”

  Kelsey opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. What in the hell was going on? Feeling a little dazed, she went back to her desk, noticing the blinking light on her phone. Picking up the receiver, she punched in her code to retrieve messages.

  “Hi, listen, this is Mike from Tech. I was wondering if you’d tried out that new I.D.? How’s it working for ya? Let me know. I’d appreciate it. Still working out the bugs in this system! Thanks. Bye.”

  Her new I.D. Well, the memo had obviously been sent, so it was clearly working. Maybe too well! She was sure she’d only sent it to the sales staff—she had a separate list with just their names. So why had “Message Sent to All Employees” come up? Had she really sent the memo out to everyone?

  Kelsey opened up the message program, and a ‘new message’ window popped up again, distracting her. It was her new stalker, DUX217:

  “Seeing you bending over at the copier in that skirt made me hard as a rock. Men’s room. Now.”

  Kelsey shivered, glancing around, as if the sender of the message might be lurking. Whoever it was had watched her at the copier. Then she remembered Matt’s smile, his wink. Still, practically the whole office had been standing in line waiting there!

  She clicked “Reply” and her fingers flew over the keyboard. It was better safe than sorry, right?

  “I don’t know who you are, or what you think you’re doing, but I’m sure that Human Resources would consider this sexual harassment and I don’t want to have to take any further action against you.”

  Kelsey sent it off before she could think about it. She sat waiting at the screen, watching for a reply message, but none came. He’s in the bathroom. The thought occurred to her and she chewed on her nail, thinking.

  Now that the message was sent, she decided that safe sucked, and she was, indeed, very sorry.

  Standing, Kelsey walked slowly around the corner, heading away from the copier and filing cabinets. She slipped into the little alcove where the men’s and women’s rooms faced one another. Standing at the drinking fountain, she pushed the button and let it run. Is he in there?

  Curious, she cautiously pushed open the door a crack. She saw the urinals, but there was thankfully no one standing at them. Edging the door open a little further, she saw the sinks, further down the wall from the urinals and closer to her. No one there either.

  She was about to let the door swing closed when she heard a soft moan. Her eyes wide, she froze, her breath catching in her throat. She edged into the bathroom, staring at the stalls. Someone was obviously in one of them, and she now had no doubt in her mind as to what he was doing.

  The voice was just a whisper, a breath really. She had to strain to hear him.

  “Oh god, Kelsey, I’m so hard for you.”

  Was Matt Roberts masturbating and thinking about her? Kelsey felt something tighten in her belly at the thought. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, striped stockings and camouflage shirt. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes too bright.

  “Ah god, those fucking stripes,” he groaned, and she heard movement, a rhythmic sound. She leaned against the sink for support, feeling weak and dizzy again. He was jerking off, she just knew it. And he was thinking about her! Not Helena Lockheed, or Susan from marketing with the huge… assets… but her!

  “I wanna shoot my cum all over those hot little stripes of yours.”

  Who was it? Matt? The voice was a hoarse whisper, too distorted to tell for sure.

  Kelsey watched her face fill with red heat, and the tingle between her thighs grew to an itch. She couldn’t tell if it was Matt, but she wondered. That rhythmic sound grew faster, louder. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard

  “God, Kelsey, you’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, and she bit her lip, glancing toward the door before pulling her skirt up in front. The thought that someone could walk in—she would get fired. They both would!

  The insistent throb between her legs demanded more when he moaned again, and she quickly shoved her hand down under her skirt, into her striped tights, past her panties. The blonde trimmed hair of her pussy parted easily for her probing fingers, and she rubbed herself as she listened to him.

  “Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned and Kelsey slipped two fingers into her pussy, her eyes closing. Oh god, the sound of him—his breath coming so fast, hand moving over his cock—the shift and sway of him in the stall. “I’m gonna cum all over you, Kelsey!”

  Her name in his mouth! Her fingers moved faster, thumb working hard against her clit, rubbing herself furiously.

  “Gonna come, gonna come!” he grunted, groaning, his voice a low growl. “Ohhh fuck, ohhh god, yeah!”

  Kelsey shuddered, pressing her cheek against the mirror over the sink as she came too, her fingers buried deep into her sopping wetness. Her breath clouded the surface as her climax overtook her and she bit her lip, trying not to cry out.

  Kelsey quickly removed her hand, pulling down her skirt. In the stall, things were quieter now, but she could still hear him panting.

  “Hello?” she called, daring, heart racing. “Did you… were you the one who… sent me the message to meet you here?”

  There was a silence, and then the door behind her opened.

  “Oh, wow, uh…” Steve from personnel walked in, staring at her, his gaze moving over her outfit.

  “Sorry, wrong door,” Kelsey apologized, breezing past him and scrambling around the corner toward her desk. Oliver’s door was closed, thankfully. Still trembling, she sank into her chair, staring at her computer screen. No new interoffice messages.

  She remembered the message she had sent to him and called it back up, wondering if there was a way to unsend it now.

  * * * *

  She knew Oliver was going to “spank” her—whatever that meant—but she couldn’t help herself. She wore them again, those sexy striped tights that had turned him on so much—her mystery interoffice messenger—after she washed them out in the sink and left them to dry over the shower curtain rod. Although this time she was at least wearing a presentable skirt and jacket to go with them.

  First thing, before Oliver arrived, she decided to go see Mike in the tech department. His office was tucked behind all the huge machines that kept their system going. She had no idea what they all did but they sure looked impressive, standing ceiling high, with their blinking lights.

  “Mike?” she called over the hum.

  He poked his head around the corner. “Hey... I called you, did you get my message?”

  She nodded as he came around the corner to greet her. “Yeah, thanks, the ID seems to be working just fine. I sent a memo out yesterday, everyone seemed to get it.” To say the least, she thought. “So, I’ve got another question for you. Do you have a list of everyone’s IDs?”

  “Sure.” Mike leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms.

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Well, I got a strange message yesterday from an ID I didn’t recognize. Can you tell me who it is?”

  “Sure,” he agreed again. “What is it?”

  “DUX217.” She couldn’t help recalling the image of Matt looking at her stockings the day before. Of course, everyone had looked at her stockings. Including her own boss! And she’d been daring—or stupid—enough to wear them again. What was she thinking?

  Mike nodded. “Just a sec.” He disappeared around the corner again, into his office. She waited, watching the lights blinking on the machines.

  “Hmm, that’s weird...”

  She looked up to see him coming back around the corner with a paper in his hand.

  “I’ve got a list of everyone’s IDs, and that’s not on it. It doesn’t sound familiar to me, either. Are you sure?”

  “Y
eah,” she said. “I’m sure.”

  “Well...” He shrugged. “I’ll look into it. Do a little more digging. Can you forward me the message?”

  Kelsey flushed.

  “No...” Thinking quickly, she lied. “I erased it.”

  “Okay, well, if you get another one, shoot it over to me so I can trace it.”

  Kelsey imagined Mike reading yesterday’s message and it made her blush even more.

  “Okay,” she said, knowing she could never forward him such a message. He was looking at her funny and she knew from the heat in her face that it must be red. “Thanks anyway.”

  “No problem.”

  She hesitated on her way out the door. “Hey, is there a shortcut way to send a message to all-employees on the system?”

  “Yep.” He motioned her around the corner, over to the computer in his office, pulling up the interoffice message system. “Control-F9. See?” He typed “test” in the text field and hit send. That box came up: “Message Sent to All Employees.”

  “Crap.” Kelsey felt sick to her stomach. She’d sent that memo out to everyone somehow. Probably going too fast. Typing ninety words per minute sometimes had its drawbacks.

  “Gonna have to run a little class on this thing once we get all the bugs worked out,” Mike mused. “Wish Mr. Pierce would let me use a system that wasn’t DOS-based. So goddamned old fashioned. I could set up something in Linux that was far superior.”

  It was all Greek to her. She just knew she’d made a mistake. All she could do now was hope it was just a little one. And that Oliver didn’t find out.

  “Thanks again, Mike,” she said and he gave her a little wave as she went out.

  Back at her desk, Kelsey got to work typing up some correspondence for Oliver. She hadn’t seen him all day because he was so busy with Lockheed, but there was still a ton to do. She did her best to concentrate on work and ignore the interoffice message system, so it was almost noon before she logged into her message account and found that DUX217 had messaged her:

  Go the men’s room after everyone goes home today and leave your panties in the trash. But first I want you to go into one of the stalls and touch yourself while you’re wearing them. It’s your turn to come for me, Kelsey.

  Kelsey’s heart raced and she glanced around her desk, as if someone might see her or the words on the screen. The thought of doing what the message suggested was both exciting and terrifying. What if someone caught her? A dull throb had begun between her legs, a faint pulse.

  Who was DUX217? It had to be Matt. She remembered the way he looked at her, how he had winked and called her “doll.” He’d flirted with her before, but she’d always assumed it was just his usual, casual way of interacting. He did that with all the girls in the office. Maybe the stockings were magic? She smiled at the silliness of her thought, but she was glad she’d worn them again, even if Oliver got angry.

  Was Matt sending these messages to her because he really thought she was sexy? Did he really think she was going to do what he asked?

  You did yesterday, a voice reminded her. She flushed, remembering masturbating in front of the mirror, listening to him come. She had touched herself four times last night, remembering it, waking again and again with the memory rushing through her.

  She’d only seen Matt once today, when she passed the copier, and he had winked and smiled at her when she said “Hello,” but no more. He hadn’t even acknowledged the stockings!

  But he’d sent this message…

  She sat at her desk and pulled up the interoffice message program. She hit “reply” to DUX217, typing:

  “If you want me to do what you asked, then tell me who you are.” She quickly hit the “send” button, and a blinking window popped up: “Message Sent.”

  “Kelsey.” Oliver was standing beside her desk and she guiltily exited the message, trying to ignore the heat between her thighs. It was the first time she’d seen him all day. “My office.”

  He went in, expecting her to follow, and she did—remembering her stripes only when she shut the door behind her and saw Oliver’s glance and then double-take, his eyebrows knitting, lips pursed into a thin line.

  “I have a very important Lockheed meeting at two today,” he announced, sitting in his chair, his head cocked as he looked her up and down. “You do realize that I’m running a business here, don’t you?”

  “Y—yes.” She fidgeted, still standing at the door, looking and feeling confused.

  “Kelsey, do you have short-term memory issues?” He leaned back in his chair, loosening his tie.

  “N—no.” She could see where this was going, of course, but was helpless to stop it.

  He crooked his finger, motioning her forward. “Then you do remember what I said about your wardrobe yesterday?”

  She nodded, walking slowly toward him, feeling like she was in a dream. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening. Of course she remembered what he’d said. But surely one violation of the office dress-code didn’t warrant anything more than a warning. Another warning. Certainly not anything so dire as getting fired. Or worse.

  A spanking?

  “Did you read the dress code when I hired you?” Oliver inquired as she stepped around to his side of the desk as he indicated. He turned his chair toward her as she approached, her trembling knees almost touching his. She just nodded her response, looking down at him. “I must not have been specific enough, is that it?”

  “I—I don’t…” Kelsey’s breath caught when his hand cupped her knee in her striped stockings. His fingers caught the fabric of her tights and pulled, letting them snap back into place.

  “Striped stockings are not allowed,” he reminded her. “Black, navy or nude only.”

  “Oh.” Of course she knew—but maybe if she played dumb? His hand was still on her knee. No, her thigh. Oh that felt nice. His hands were big, covering a lot of area.

  “Do you know why?” His hand was definitely on her thigh. Nowhere near her knee anymore. She shook her head, making a little noise in her throat that she hoped might pass as an answer. “Distractions, Kelsey.”

  Oh it was distracting indeed. Very distracting.

  “There’s a natural polarity between the masculine and feminine, no matter their circumstances. Did you know that?”

  She swallowed, nodding.

  “Men and women—we’re like magnets, drawn together. It’s inevitable really.” His hand was on her inner thigh, slowly kneading her flesh. Kelsey could barely keep her breathing under control, trying not to show how excited she was, hoping he didn’t notice her knees quivering.

  “It’s hard enough for men and women to work together, side by side every day, without distractions like these.” His hand moved lower, lightly stroking the back of her knee. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” She understood now, without a doubt, even if she hadn’t before.

  He looked up and met her eyes, his expression unreadable. “Take them off.”

  “Sir?” she breathed. He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be.

  “Take them off.” He leaned back in his chair, looking annoyed that he had to repeat himself, crossing his feet at the ankles, his arms over his chest.

  Kelsey blinked, a part of her screaming that she should run straight to human resources and report this, but her hands moved to her hemline, trying to negotiate a way of taking her striped stockings off without having to pull her skirt up, and she couldn’t think of one.

  If the thought of being spanked over his desk had been humiliating, this was far worse. Now she had to face him, watch the corner of his mouth twitch, almost a smile, as she realized she couldn’t do this without hefting her skirt up to hook her thumbs into the elastic tops of her tights.

  Maybe he’s making you take them off so he can spank you?

  The thought was horrifying. And exciting beyond words.

  “Turn around,” Oliver instructed as Kelsey got the elastic down to mid-hip level.

  She didn’t
question him. She was glad he couldn’t see how red her face was as she slid the tops of the tights over her behind, realizing too late that her panties were caught, rolling down along with her stockings, giving him a full view. She didn’t want to think about that, grabbing the top edge of her bikini panties and pulling them back up, pushing the tights down her long, slim thighs. She had to bend over to get them down her knees, her calves, stepping out of her pumps to slide them off her feet.

  “Good.” Oliver’s voice was low, husky. He cleared his throat as she slipped her bare feet back into her shoes, picking up the tights, which were decidedly moist in the crotch, from the floor. “Put them on my desk.”

  Kelsey balled them in her fist, turning to drop them in the middle of his desk, the damp mass of black and white completely out of place on blotter.

  “Now you can’t wear them again, can you?” He raised an eyebrow at her, reaching over and picking up her tights.

  “No, sir.” Her face was flushed, damp, but she felt cold without her tights, and she saw him looking at her naked knees below her hemline as he contemplated the striped stockings in his hands.

  “Good girl.” He watched her shift from foot to foot. Kelsey felt completely exposed in front of him. “We have a clear understanding of expectations?”

  “Yes, sir,” she lied. She wasn’t sure of anything—not anymore. Having your boss ask you to take your stockings off in his office was a complete game-changer. Who knew?

  “Excellent.” He reached behind him, dropping the stockings into the wastebasket. “Then I don’t have to spank you.”

  Oh. She was suddenly so lightheaded, she thought she might faint. Oliver turned his chair back to his desk, picking up a file—the Lockheed file—and focusing back on work. She was dismissed. Kelsey wobbled toward the door, feeling naked without her tights.

  “I won’t be so lenient next time, Kelsey.” His voice was soft but clear as she started out the door.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The rest of the day, she was swamped with work, one thing after another, and she was glad. It gave her the time and distance she needed. She was away from her desk when Oliver left for the Lockheed meeting so she didn’t see him then, and he hadn’t returned back to his office by the time she sat back down at her computer at four, after spending the afternoon re-organizing the filing cabinets.

 

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