by Anya Aurelie
New job. New boss. Old boyfriend.
Oh god. Her heart pounded and she shot straight up in bed. Had she really done that? Had she really cheated on Jeff with her ex from college, who also happened to be her new billionaire tech mogul boss? She looked over at her husband, still asleep beside her in bed.
Yes. It had happened. It hadn’t been a dream — though as she reached down to feel the slippery moisture between her bare legs, she realized she had been dreaming about it.
And worst of all was that feeling of excitement she’d awoken with. She shouldn’t want this. She shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t be so wet thinking about this.
But she had no choice…right? Matt would fire her if she didn’t let him use her as his obedient office slut. He’d said so himself, and her new coworker Monica had implied the same.
With a twinge of guilt, Carrie eased out of bed. Yes, she told herself, she had no choice. The fact that she got so turned on just thinking about Matt’s cock buried deep inside of her unprotected pussy was just incidental. It didn’t matter one way or the other. She was doing what she had to do to keep her job.
In the bathroom, Carrie pulled the bag containing her new corset out from beneath the sink where she’d stashed it so Jeff wouldn’t find it. She’d bought it the previous day after work, when Matt had demanded that she show up today wearing something sexy beneath her clothes — but something that wouldn’t risk peaking out at work, like the garter belt straps had.
She pulled the corset on and fastened the clasps down her front, one by one, until she was wrapped tight in the material, her breasts pushed up and cleavage emphasized. The corset ended at her hips and she wore silky panties underneath, which was better for “easy access” than traditional corsets that attached between the legs, the salesgirl had explained to her. Carrie had blushed, then taken her advice. The corset also came with removable straps that hung down her thigh to be attached to thigh-high stockings, but Carrie took them off. This was exactly what Matt had forbidden her from wearing yesterday, and she didn’t want to get in trouble on her second day on the job.
She studied herself in the mirror. The corset was a sexy look, to be sure, but it was missing something. Maybe I’ll just try it on with the thigh-highs to see how it looks, she told herself, and tiptoed back into the bedroom, where Jeff was still sleeping soundly. Slowly, she pulled her top dresser drawer open and rummaged around in the early-morning light until she’d found a pair of black thigh-high stockings with sexy lace at the top — similar to the ones she’d worn yesterday that Matt had ripped off of her.
Back in the bathroom, she studied herself again with the stockings on and straps attached. It was undeniable: this look was much better than the corset on its own.
Do I really have to take these off? she asked herself. The stockings were sexy and made her want to crawl back into bed and rub her swollen clit, maybe even rub it on Jeff until he woke up and fucked her. She started to unclip the stockings from the straps, then stopped.
You know what? she thought to herself. Fuck it. He doesn’t get to tell me what to wear. Dress code was one thing, but as long as Carrie kept the tops of the stockings covered by her skirt, it was none of Matt’s business what she wore. The corset was for him, but the stockings she would wear for herself.
She arrived at work right on time and found Matt’s office door closed. She logged into the system and got stared on some organizational tasks she’d been shown the day before, but she was nervous and antsy while she worked, expecting at every moment that the door would fly open and her ex-boyfriend would appear, perhaps demanding to fuck her.
It was never like this in the past, she thought. What had changed? Was it his money and power that was such a turn-on, or was it the confidence that had come with his success? Probably all of the above, but regardless of the reason she couldn’t deny that the tables had turned. Now Matt held all the power.
It wasn’t until 10 a.m. that the door to Matt’s office finally opened and he emerged into the outer office where Carrie sat at her desk, trying to concentrate. She jumped when she heard him, then tried to pretend she hadn’t.
“Good morning, Carrie,” he said, and she turned to face him.
“Hi, Matt,” she said, a little sheepishly. “How are you?”
“Great,” he said. “Did you follow my instructions today?”
She didn’t answer, suddenly intimidated by his presence and worrying that putting on the thigh-highs at the last minute was a mistake.
He approached her, and her breath quickened. He pushed her skirt up her leg to reveal the tops of her lacy stockings, held in place by the straps that led higher up her legs.
“What did I tell you about this?” he thundered, and she shrunk back, surprised.
“I — I’m sorry,” she stammered. “But I also wore something new, like you asked.”
He stood back, arms folded across his chest. “Show me.”
She glanced at the door that led out to the reception area. “Right here?”
“Right here. Right now.”
Someone could walk in on them at any moment, she knew, and her pulse picked up as she shrugged off her jacket and unbuttoned the top button of her starched white shirt. A small bit of the top of her cleavage appeared. He stood staring at her, and her fingers fumbled on the second button. More cleavage was revealed. At the third button the top of her corset appeared.
Matt smiled. She kept unbuttoning until her shirt was open in front of her, the length of the corset revealed to him.
“Stand up,” he said, and she stood.
“Take your shirt off.”
“What if someone comes in?” she protested.
“Take it off!” he said, his eyes flashing in anger, and she quickly obeyed. She stood in front of him in corset and skirt and waited while he looked her up and down.
“Now take the skirt off,” he instructed. She glanced at the door but didn’t say anything this time, not daring to contradict him, and instead just obeyed his directions, unfastening the button and sliding down the zipper before stepping out of the skirt. Her heart was pounding now, not sure what was coming next, and her pussy in the silky underwear was wet and throbbing.
“Very good,” he said. “Get up on your desk on all fours. Let me see you.”
Hesitantly, Carrie climbed up on top of her desk, surreptitiously glancing at the door and feeling her face flush as she imagined someone walking in on them. Matt walked around her, circling the desk and surveying every inch of her exposed skin. Then he slapped her ass three times, hard, and she tried not to flinch.
“This corset does good things for you,” he said, and she relaxed a little. Hopefully he would let her down soon. After all, he hadn’t said anything yesterday about fucking her out here in the outer office, where anyone could walk in on them. He’d mentioned only taking her on the easy chair in his inner office — his private office.
“But,” he continued, “we need to get rid of these panties.”
Carrie gasped. Take her panties off? Here, posing on top of her desk?
Matt reached out and slapped her ass again, then roughly reached out and snapped the suspenders holding her thigh-highs up.
“Ouch!” she said in surprise.
“I told you not to wear these,” he said. “Maybe next time you’ll obey. Unclip them.”
Carrie sat up on her knees, then unfastened the clips on her suspenders, which swung free, and returned to all fours. Now that the suspenders running from the corset to the stockings no longer kept her panties in place, Matt pulled the panties down her thighs. When they caught at her knees, he instructed her to stand up. Shakily, she stood on top of her desk, her pussy at the level of his face, acutely aware of his eyes on her most private parts. Her panties fell down to her ankles when she stood, and she stepped out of them.
Matt picked up the panties and breathed into them deeply. “Give me your wrists,” he said, and she held them down to him. He threaded each of her hands through one of
the leg holes, then tied both sides together so that her wrists were constricted together in a silky knot.
Matt looked like he was enjoying himself. With Carrie’s hands tied together, he reached between her legs and felt into her folds.
“You’re nice and wet for me,” he said with a grin. Carrie couldn’t help it; she moaned when his fingers touched her delicate skin.
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
He reached in deeper, pushing one finger inside of her hole, and she moaned again, wanting nothing more than for him to push his thick cock inside of her. This was so bad, so wrong, she thought. She knew she shouldn’t cheat on her husband, knew he would never forgive her if he found out. And she knew she should take this sexual energy home with her and take it out on Jeff instead. The cost was just too high.
But her body wanted Matt. She wanted him with every fiber of her being, deep inside of her unprotected cunt and spreading her further open with every thrust.
And perhaps more importantly, he wanted her. He wanted to take her and use her, humiliate her, force her to cheat. And he was the boss. Her job was in his hands.
She couldn’t possibly disobey.
So she ground against his finger, pushing it into her g-spot and turning her on even more. She was so horny she could hardly stand it.
And then he abruptly withdrew his finger from her. “No,” she whimpered, wanting more. He pushed the wet finger into her mouth and she sucked on it, tasting her own moisture.
“Because you disobeyed me, you must be punished,” he said in a low voice. “Get back down on all fours.”
Cold fear shot through her body. Punished? What was he talking about? What would he do to her? She knelt, struggling at little since her hands were still bound together, and returned to her original position, now-bare ass in the air on top of her desk.
“You’re going to stay here until I’m ready for you,” he said. “All day if that’s what I decide.”
“Stay…here?” she repeated, a sinking feeling in her chest. Surely he must be joking. It was one thing to risk being walked in on while she was mostly naked for a few minutes. It was another thing entirely to stay perched on her desk for hours, wearing only a corset, bare pussy exposed to anyone who happened to walk in.
And they would walk in, that much was sure. The previous day people had come into the office a couple of times an hour to give her messages for Matt or to meet with him privately. It was only a matter of time before her new coworkers saw her in this extremely compromising position.
“But people will see me,” she protested, starting to feel desperate. Her heart was beating faster and faster as she considered the prospect, imagined the scene that was bound to unfold.
“And whose fault is that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Carrie looked down at the desk. She knew she was defeated. Matt was in control. “It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“It’s my fault,” she repeated, a little louder. “I shouldn’t have disobeyed you. I shouldn’t have worn the stockings.”
“That’s right,” he said. “If anyone comes in, I expect you to help them out with whatever they need. I expect you to answer the phone. I expect you to do your job.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. She’d never called him “sir” before and it surprised her to hear the words come out of her mouth, but it had felt appropriate to the situation. He smiled, seeming to enjoy his newfound power over her.
“But you will not — you will not — move from this position,” he continued. “Do you understand?”
“I understand,” she said. She gulped. She was so wet she could hardly stand it. She desperately wanted him to take her into his office, bend her naked pussy over his easy chair, and fuck her silly. She wanted to come.
But it didn’t seem like that was in the cards — at least, not for quite a while.
“Good,” he said, and walked back into his office, slamming the door behind him.
What now? Carrie wondered. With Matt out of the room, she felt even more self-conscious than before. Every time she heard voices from the reception area, she worried someone was about to walk in. Every creak, every movement, every beep from a computer, she was sure she was about to be discovered. Every time, she jumped. And every time, her pussy got a little bit wetter.
When twenty minutes had passed and no one had walked in, Carrie began to relax. Her knees were starting to hurt against the hard desk, and she longed to sit back down in her chair. Her thoughts turned away from being caught naked and toward what she’d eat for lunch.
And then the door opened.
Carrie jumped, then forced herself to return to her position, hands and knees, ass up and exposed. She looked toward the door, feeling shame.
Monica, the coworker who had shown Carrie around the day before, walked in. Her face changed to surprised, then confused, then grim — and then maybe just a touch turned on. Carrie looked down at the desk as she asked, “Can I help you?”
“Ah,” Monica said. “I see that he’s started in already.”
“Started in?” Carrie asked. So it was true — she wasn’t Matt’s first. This was all part of the job of being his secretary. She wondered for the second day whether Monica had held this position before her, and felt a small jolt of jealousy at the thought.
“What did you do?” Monica said. “To end up this way.” She raised her eyebrows.
Carrie blushed even further than she already was.
“I wore stockings. He told me not to.”
“Sounds about right,” she said. “Anyway, I need to make an appointment for a meeting with Matthew in the next few days to discuss the budget.”
“Okay…” Carrie was surprised at how much Monica was taking this in stride. How many had come before her? How many had been asked to remain in this exact same position? Was she just another in a long line of office sluts?
She crawled over to the computer and pulled up the Matt’s schedule, moving slowly since her wrists were still tied together and she wasn’t allowed to take her ass out of the air. She could feel Monica’s eyes on her pussy as she found an open block of time and scheduled Monica in.
Carrie returned to her hands and knees as soon as she was done scheduling, and Monica looked her up and down one last time before walking out the door. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been so bad.
But only a couple of minutes later, the door opened again. This time, it was a guy she hadn’t yet met.
“Oh —” he said, and paused like he wasn’t sure if he should walk right back out the door.
“How can I help you?” Carrie asked, her cheeks burning, as his eyes traced her curves.
“I, uh…I need to pick up some documents Matthew was working on for me.” Carrie heard the distraction in his voice — he was too busy staring at her bare pussy to concentrate on what he was saying.
“Documents…” she said, then remembered that Matt had left some pages with her the day before. “Right! Are you Dave?”
“I am.”
Thoroughly humiliated, she crawled over to the edge of her desk and pulled open a drawer with her bound hands. While she sorted through to find the pages Matt had given her, her backside was to the man in the office, and she knew he was staring at her exposed cunt. She felt herself throb in response, half hoping he’d reach out and stroke her.
Finally finding the pages, she pulled them out and turned awkwardly back around on her knees, holding them out to him. He took them from her, his eyes still roaming her body.