Following Orders
An BDSM Office Sharing Erotic Short
Kimber Harding
Following Orders by Kimber Harding
Independently Published
Copyright © 2020 Kimber Harding
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover Photography from DepositPhotos.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any persons appearing on the cover image of this book are models and do not have any connection to the contents of this book.
Following Orders
CHAPTER 1
“Mina,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, like a cool drink of water to my ears. “Mina Evans, was it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I fidgeted with the hem of my pencil skirt. My best friend, who had gotten me an interview with this financial mogul through a friend of a friend, had suggested that I wear a tight red lacey thong. It was so provocative, so unprofessional, but being a college graduate and still a virgin, she told me it would give me confidence in the interview. Confidence, hah! Geez, was she wrong. How could anyone have confidence in front of Mr. Goldman?
His eyes peered down over my resume, down at me. Icy blue and full of steel, his eyes held me for the first time since I had walked into the giant office room. According to my best friend, the job title was Personal Assistant, but it was…more than that. Mr. Goldman had certain proclivities that helped him to do his job, and if those needs weren’t met, it was bad news for everyone in the office. But she never went into what those details meant.
I had a feeling. I might have been a virgin, but I wasn’t stupid. Still, none of that prepared me for what Mr. Goldman had planned.
“Quite frankly, you’re overqualified,” he said. He dropped my resume on the desk and went to the full floor-to-ceiling window in the back of the room. “A bachelor’s degree and impeccable internships. Dare I ask why you’re interested in this job?”
“To work with you, Mr. Goldman,” I swallowed. “After all I’ve heard about your business enterprises, I want nothing more than to work for you.”
“To work with me, and for me, are two very different things, Mina.” He turned slowly from the window, his thick muscles tensing beneath his suit. “What I need is an assistant who can follow orders. Who doesn’t question any instructions that I give her. No matter the command.” He stepped around the desk, putting a hand on my shoulder, and that touch, the power magnetic through his fingertips, melted me to my core. He stared into my eyes. “Can you do that for me, Mina?”
Part of me wanted to ask what kinds of things he would instruct me to do, but the other part of me was afraid. Not only was Mr. Goldman one of the sexiest men I had ever seen in person—the man was built like a sculpture, carved out of hard marble, abs for days, broad shoulders, and masculine facial hair—but he was one of the most powerful. Goldman Enterprises dealt with businesses at an international level. And after three months of failing to even land an interview, despite the highest honors badge in my degree field, I was desperate to land something. Anything. Even a job as a personal assistant. Even if it meant doing Mr. Goldman’s dirty work.
Not that doing his dirty work would be a bad thing. But still, it would be temporary, I told myself.
“Yes sir,” I said.
“Good.” He went back to the window and gazed out at the bustling city below, knowing how far reaching his power was. He controlled everyone in the building, he controlled the city, like he controlled the world. “You start tomorrow. Seven a.m.” Before I could open my mouth to express my thanks, he held up a hand. He didn’t look at me, his eyes focused outside. “I have a strict uniform requirement for my assistants. Ask the front desk for the assistant guidebook on your way out.”
I nodded. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Goldman.”
He turned back towards me. “I know,” he said.
CHAPTER 2
I had thought that a red lacey thong was embarrassing. But that was only the start when it came to Mr. Goldman.
According to the assistant guidebook, I would wear bright red matching lace underwear, bra and panties alike, every day beneath my clothes. Skirts were necessary, as were stockings and high heels. As I sat in my beat-up junker of a car, I sighed. I hadn’t even dressed like that during college, so before I even started the job, I was already digging myself deeper into the financial hole.
But when I got back to my studio apartment, a large package was waiting on the doorstep. It had everything I needed, down to the underwear, in my exact size. I had given him my resume, not my clothes measurements. Had he truly paid that close of attention to me?
The next day, dressed in Mr. Goldman’s very particular personal assistant’s uniform, another worker seated me at a desk right outside of his office. It was a closed room—as if my office was the final barrier before getting to Mr. Goldman.
At around nine, he exited his office, and as I stood to greet him, he said, “Not now, Mina,” and dismissed me. He was out the door and into a meeting.
When he came back, an hour later, he was fuming—red-faced and fists clenched. “Inside,” he said, motioning me into his office. His aggression shocked me; never did I expect a grown man, a CEO billionaire of a company, to be so visibly angry.
“Now, Mina,” he said, his voice cooling. A chill ran through my spine. “I told you what I expect of my assistant. Don’t make me say it again.”
I skimped into his office, feeling his hot presence behind me.
“How did the meeting go, Mr. Goldman?”
“Bend over the desk,” he said. A shock reverberated through me. I froze in place. Dang it. He told me to do it without question. But what did he have in mind? I was prepared to lie on certain paperwork, to fake his signature for him, to pretend like he was too busy for a phone call when someone annoying called, but this? Bending over the desk? What did he want to do? And to me? “I won’t ask again,” he said coldly.
I moved, trying to eye him as I bent over the desk, but he was out of view. “Lift your skirt,” he said. I did as I was told, exposing myself, feeling the cold rush of the air conditioning on my pussy, the thin fabric of the lace panties barely protecting me. “To answer your question, the meeting went according to plan.”
Suddenly, his warm fingers were touching me from behind, feeling my soft split of flesh, pressing through the stockings and fabric. Then he ripped the stockings, the slicing sound echoing through the room, sending a wave of surprised heat through me. He had purchased these stockings, and he had just ripped them?
His fingers slowly moved aside my panties. He felt my naked flesh, my bare pussy. I looked back; he was kneeling, up close to my pussy, observing every curve. My face reddened; this was embarrassing. I hadn’t shaved and I didn’t even know what to do with a man that close. He pulled apart my lips. His breath was hot on my skin.
“A virgin,” he said. “We’ll have to fix that.”
And with that, he swiftly came around the desk and took his seat. “That is all for now. Thank you, Mina,” he said. He turned to his work, and left me standing there, my skirt still around my hips.
CHAPTER 3
I kept telling myself that it was just a job. A job that I needed. Working with Mr. Goldman would help me get any job I could possibly want hereafter, and besides, I was late on rent. Even just going through a few weeks of his ‘instructions’ would be enough to get ahead of the never-ending student loan payments and other bills.
And besides, he was really hot. His steely blue eyes, his perfectly sculpted muscles, the dark hair, the imp
eccable suits. To top it all off, the way he made me feel when he looked at me was beyond what I could take. It was like he needed to have me, in every way possible. He wouldn’t settle for less.
After lunch, I was getting bored—despite being his assistant, Mr. Goldman never had me do anything, besides wait for his instructions. But then he called me into his office, via an intercom, and I walked slowly into the room.
He was sitting, his chair swiveled to the back of the room, gazing out the window. My pussy clenched, throbbing to be closer to him. “Every day, you will service me,” he said. He turned towards me. “Take off your shirt and skirt.”
Slowly, hesitantly, I did as I was told. The ripped stockings were the worst part of it; it felt more exposed than simply skipping them.
“Kneel. Under my desk.”
I walked towards him, the click of my heels loud through the room, and once I was on my knees, I scooted myself under his desk. With a quick motion, he pulled out his hot, pulsing bulge, and rubbed it in front of my eyes. It was huge, thick and pulsating, and I had never even seen one in person before. I licked my lips.
“Open your mouth,” he said. I did as I was told. He shoved his cock in my mouth. I closed my lips around him, and he moaned. A shiver ran down my spine. I, Mina Evans, had made Mr. Goldman moan. He put a hand on the back of my head and pulled my mouth further down onto his shaft, choking me. My eyes watered, but it felt so good to feel his control, guiding me to do exactly what he wanted.
But this was wrong. So wrong. He was my boss! He wasn’t supposed to be doing this to me.
Worst of all, I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Rub your pussy. I’ll teach you if I have to.” But my hand found its way into my panties, and I rubbed myself, my slick folds of tight virgin pussy. “You belong to me, Mina. All of you. Your orgasms. Your mouth. Your cunt. All of it.”
With that, he pushed his way in and out of my mouth, and I choked on his cock, but it felt good. He needed my service; he needed my mouth.
“Swallow,” he said, his cock throbbing in my throat, and I tried not to gag on the hot sticky seed coming out of it. “Every. Last. Drop.” I did as I was told, but it hurt, my eyes watering.
“Are you on the pill, Mina?” he asked. I shook my head. There was no need for birth control when you were a virgin. Was there? “I plan to break you, Mina. And that means using that sweet cunt of yours for my seed. If you don’t want to carry a baby, I suggest you fix that.”
My jaw was dropped to the floor. He grinned, as if pleased at how much he had shocked me. “You did well. You’re a good girl, Mina,” he said, and the compliment was like a sweet sugar to my ears, bringing me to the clouds. “You’re my good girl,” he said. “That will be all for today. Be here first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
CHAPTER 4
The next day, I hadn’t gotten on the pill. I guess I almost expected Mr. Goldman to have a prescription delivered to me at the apartment. But just in case, I ordered some morning after pills, stuffing them in the medicine cabinet to be forgotten. I doubted he would actually come inside of me. I was his assistant, not his wife nor his surrogate.
But the next day, wearing a different set of red matching lingerie, I was ready. He told me to bend over the desk. I did as I was told. My pussy lips were drenched with his eyes on me, ready for him. He pulled the fabric of my panties to the side.
“You never experimented in college?” he asked. His fingers pulled my lips apart.
“Never,” I said. He blew out a cold breath on my lips, and a shiver reverberated through my whole body.
He stood, his body towering over me, and the zipper signaled that he had taken out his cock. I could hear the subtle juggling of his cock. I realized he was looking at me and pleasuring himself. I was on display for him.
“You are perfect,” he said. “And I’m going to take that from you.”
The head of his cock, thick and warm, pulled apart my slit. The slightest amount of pressure made me flinch. Suddenly, my mind went to the pill. Did I remember to put some in my bag? How long did I have until it didn’t work anymore?
He eased his cock inside of me, slowly at first, and I moaned, crying out, because it hurt too. He was so big, bigger than any cock I had ever fantasized about, stretching me wider than my virginity could take. But god, it felt good to be used. He wanted me. Not for my brains or my abilities, but for my pussy. My body. My virgin hole, gone, used by him.
“You are fucking tight,” he said, his voice shaking. “Pay close attention, Mina,” he growled. “You’re mine. You will not fuck anyone. You will not fantasize about anyone, but me. You will not touch yourself unless I give you permission. Do you understand?”
As he said the words, his pace increased, and it hurt and felt good at the same time. His body slammed into mine, and it felt dirtier to still be clothed, only my panties moved to the side, as he fucked me and used me like a whore. My virginity, gone, not because I finally gave it all way to a man who loved me, but because I needed this job, and damn it, he made me feel so damn good.
He reached around, rubbing my clit, hovering his body over mine. “Don’t come,” he said. “Don’t come until I give you permission. Do you understand, Mina?”
“Yes, sir,” I cried.
He rubbed my clit in frantic circles, his orgasm drawing near. “Ah, fuck!” he moaned. “Come, Mina! Come for me!” and I came, my pussy throbbing over his cock, and he exploded inside of me. Pulsing. Every last drop. He held me there for a few seconds, his cock letting out all of his juicy semen, and as he pulled out, I could feel it dripping down my legs. “Pull yourself together and wait at your desk.”
Like it was nothing. Like I had been used, and now, discarded.
I felt humiliated. I was still in my uniform, but this time, his come was leaking out of my pussy, staining my clothes. Anyone who stepped into the room would be able to smell the sex coming off of me, knowing exactly what I was to Mr. Goldman: a hole to be used.
By the time Mr. Goldman emerged from his office again, he looked the same: completely put together, in charge, and in control.
CHAPTER 5
It had been a week since he had brought me into his office. I felt neglected, sitting out in that front room, waiting for his instructions, hardly ever seeing him. Once, he face fucked me against the window-wall, then came on my chest, and instructed me to get his coffee, without cleaning myself up. Can you imagine, walking up to the coffee shop counter as the barista stares at your chest, wondering what the hell happened to have such a huge white sticky stain on your button-up shirt?
“An Americano. Please,” I said.
When I returned, bringing his drink, he didn’t even look up from his work. He quietly thanked me and waved me off. I felt mad. Dare I tell him that I hadn’t taken the pill yet, would that get a rise out of him? I was his office whore. He came inside of me, in my mouth, in my pussy, on my chest, and paraded my dedication around in public.
But then, stepping out of his office, his eyes fell over me, and his gaze turned hot.
“Are you headed to your three o’clock appointment?” I asked.
“I was,” he said, turning towards the office. “Now, Mina.”
I quickly got into his office, now accustomed to his demands. Not just accustomed, but eager, willing to please him.
“Present your ass,” he said. I pulled up my skirt, and he shook his head. “Naked.”
I stripped down, and he watched me, his eyes following my every move—removing the skirt, the stockings, even down to the thong. He gestured at my top, and I did the same, unbuttoning each button with aching deliberate movements, his eyes practically salivating at my body. He had the power, the control over me, but he wanted me.
“Bend over the desk. Show me your ass.”
With my belly on the cold glass desk, I held my cheeks apart. Again, he kneeled down, crouching to see my rosebud. His finger gently tou
ched it, and I quivered. It tickled. Then with both of his hands on my ass, he stuck his tongue inside of me. Licking me, his tongue teasing and caressing my most sensitive area. He hadn’t even licked my pussy before, but he was licking there?! Impulsively, I tried to stop him, but his fingers dug into my skin, pulling my cheeks apart wider. I gave in, letting myself enjoy it. It felt good, didn’t it? Was there anything to be ashamed about?
The fact that it was my ass. That I had been a complete virgin a few mere days ago, and now I was practically begging him to fuck me in the ass.
He tongue-fucked my hole, and I moaned, relishing in the feel of Mr. Goldman having complete control of me. Owning me. He groaned, then stood, yanking his own pants and underwear down.
“Every hole of yours, including your ass, is mine, Mina,” he said. His cock teased my opening, and I clenched tighter. Would it hurt? Would it hurt worse than losing my virginity? “You dirty girl. Thinking you can come in here with your virgin holes and get away with it. You’re mine, Mina. All of you.”
His cock eased inside of me, and he let out the loudest moan, so loud I was afraid other people in the office would hear us. He inched himself inside, breaking me wider, but with such careful, slow movements, that I held my breath. “Your ass is unimaginable,” he said. He reached down and felt my pussy. I was slick with need, embarrassingly wet, and he licked my juice off of his fingers. “You like this, don’t you? It hurts but you fucking love it, you dirty girl.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Then be a good girl and let me fuck you.”
He pushed my head down onto the desk, as if my face was a grip, and his pace increased, as much as my tight asshole would let him. But I was too tight; it wasn’t enough for him to pump me full of his rock hard, thick cock at such a slow, even pace. He spit on his cock, and that helped a little, but it still hurt.
Following Orders Page 1