by Miley Milque
"Thank you, sir."
"Of course as with anything you still have a lot you can improve upon."
His gaze traveled up and down my body, a frown tugging at his lips. "You're still quite far from perfection."
"I'm sorry?"
"That's quite all right. No need to be sorry. We can work on you."
The others at the table slipped away, knowing smiles on their faces. Feeling suddenly trapped by a wild animal she watched them go then turned her attention back to Mr. Stone.
"Work on me? What does that mean exactly?"
He ran a hand down my arm, tugging at the material of my dress as he went. "What is this? Wool?"
"Yes. It can get cold in these banquet halls."
He looked down at my shoes. Ones I'd picked up three years ago on sale before I made the trip to LA.
"And those shoes. I've seen elderly women with better taste in foot attire."
I bristled at his comments but couldn't deny their truthfulness. "These were the best I could afford at the time."
"And since then have you been able to stash some money away to purchase more suitable clothing?"
"Maybe." Not that it was any of his business but I had been squirreling money away every month hoping to have enough for new equipment for the business. If I needed to network more to get business I could add clothes to the list.
"Do you want this business to be successful, Beth?"
The familiarity with which he used my name made me wonder if we'd met before. He didn't tell me how he'd found my business.
Or why he'd settled on me when there were other catering businesses out there with a lot more experience at these kinds of parties than I have.
"Of course I do. It takes time for a business to get off the ground though. I'm doing what I can."
"If you're serious meet me in the banquet hall's private office. I have a business opportunity for you."
My heart raced. Images of dollars raining down on me filled my head as I ticked off imaginary parties I would cater. One recommendation from Mr. Stone could put me on the map here.
The speed with which the others had left the table ran through my mind. Did they just want to give them some privacy because they knew Mr. Stone wanted to talk business? That didn't make sense because he didn't want to talk here.
"A private office?"
"Yes. Will you meet me in an hour?"
The predatory look he gave me had my flight response kicking into overdrive. He softened his look with a smile. He caressed my cheek with a strong hand then cupped my chin.
He gazed into my eyes as if trying to read my mind. If he could do that I would be in trouble. Images of him taking me over the desk in the office filled my mind.
"Sure. In an hour."
"Good. Don't be late. I don't like it when people are late."
He walked off to the next table to sample my sweets. Alone at the appetizer table I remembered to pull out some business cards and put them beside the dishes.
Would I regret my decision to meet him? The thought of not going tugged at me but I had already promised. If I disappointed him would he give me a bad review?
Would he slam my business all over town so I didn't get another catering job?
He had the power to do that and worse.
The delighted sounds of people enjoying their food soothed my nerves. I loved when people liked what I made.
As I made my way back to the kitchen another waitress came out to refill the empty dishes again. Since the party had started a few hours ago they had been filling the dishes constantly.
I hurried through the swinging door and sat on a chair in front of the large prep table. My stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Mr. Stone alone.
Had I imagined his sexual interest, was it just wishful thinking?
I kept my gaze glued to the clock on the wall as it ticked away the minutes. I was afraid that if I started to do something I would lose track of time and be late for my meeting. I got absorbed in tasks with the whole world falling away until I finished what I'd started.
I knew where the private office was. I'd seen the banquet steward when I first arrived to set up the tables and put the final touches on some of the dishes. With five minutes to spare I took a deep breath, pushed myself off my chair and made my way down the hall.
I knocked on the door and waited for Mr. Stone's gruff, "Come in."
CHAPTER TWO
The aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the kitchen making my stomach grumble in appreciation. I pulled the last batch out of the oven and put the cookie sheet on the stove to cool.
This would be the ones I presented to Mr. Stone. After hours of baking I’d finally gotten a batch with the perfect consistency, the perfect texture, the perfect shape. Even though they’d spread out during baking they were all still symmetrical.
Breathing a sigh of relief I whisked off the apron I’d thrown on to protect the dress Mr. Stone had bought for me. It was one of many, the only clothes I was allowed to wear now that I was his personal cook.
And nine times out of ten it was dresses. Occasionally he would allow me to wear skirts as long as I paired it with a nice blouse. He’d thrown away all of my pants except one pair of jeans I was allowed to wear on Saturdays when he was out playing golf.
Once the cookies cooled enough to move them I transferred six to a tray that already had date squares on one side. I’d used his mother’s recipe for both trying to get them perfect, the way he remembered them growing up.
I wasn’t allowed to eat them unless he was there so I had to wait until he tried them to find out how they tasted.
I took a deep breath and balanced the tray on one hand. When I was sure it was steady I made my way down the hall to his office. The door was open but I knocked anyway so as not to startle him.
He looked up at me and grinned. “Come in, Beth. I see you brought treats.”
I hurried into the room and set the tray on the desk. I waited for him to pick a treat. His hand hovered over the cookies then moved to the dates then back to the cookies. Finally he selected a cookie.
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 bef
ore 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 long 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.