Overtime

by Roxie Noir

  “Get on your knees,” he said. He was standing right in front of her, probably less than a foot away, she thought. Slowly, unsteadily, she bent her right knee to the floor and then her left, feeling ungainly and off-balance as she settled on her heels, the thin spikes digging lines into her ass. He moved behind her and she heard another click, and then another. Suspicious, she tried to move her arms up and felt them tug on the ankle straps of her shoes.

  The locks are real, she thought.

  You can say hippopotamus any time, she reminded herself. The thought held no allure.

  He moved to her front again and stayed there for a moment. Valerie could imagine the predatory look on his face, hungrily looking at her in a corset and thong, trussed for him to use however he wanted. Below the blindfold, she licked her lips again, waiting for whatever was next.

  Right in front of her face, she heard his zipper slide down, and then a soft rustling sound.

  “Move your head forward a few inches,” he said, and Valerie did, knowing what she would find: the warm, soft head of his cock, hard against her lips.

  She opened her mouth just enough to allow the head in, sucking at it and running her tongue along the bottom, swirling it around the ridge. He tasted salty and sweet at the same time, an intoxicating combination. Blindfolded and bound, the only thing Valerie could feel was him in her mouth and she reveled in it. It was like he was made of steel covered in velvet: his cock absolutely hard, the skin on it soft.

  Valerie opened her jaw a little more and drew more of him in, sliding the shaft past her lips, still running her tongue along the underside, then pulling her head back, careful to not touch him with her teeth.

  She was rewarded with a low, soft groan, almost closer to a growl, and the knowledge that was pleasing him blossomed in her.

  She opened her jaw again, even wider now, touching the head of his cock to the back of her mouth. Valerie tried to relax so she wouldn’t trigger her gag reflex and moved slowly, pushing her lips as far down the shaft as she could, but she could tell she was getting nowhere near the root of his cock, that there was still an inch or two left to go. She pulled her head back, sucking at his greedily as she did, taking a moment to hold the head in her mouth again, swirling her tongue around it for a few moments before sliding him back into her mouth and nestling the head as far back in her mouth as she could, pushing against her gag reflex, always just about to trigger it.

  As she pulled him out again, swirled her tongue, she felt his hand lightly on the back of her head.

  “Have you ever deep throated a cock?” he asked.

  “No, Mr. Declan,” she answered. To be honest, she’d never been particularly interested in giving blow jobs before—she did it because boyfriends liked it so much, but she’d never enjoyed it enough to learn to deep throat. Not until now, at least, because in that moment, there was nothing she wanted more.

  “I can try,” she said, face tilted up at him.

  “Not now, pet,” he said. He brushed one thumb along her cheekbone and she turned her head against it, wanting his touch more than anything. “We can work on it.”

  His cock bumped against her lips again and she went for it hungrily, determined that even if she wasn’t able to deep throat him today, she’d still give an amazing blow job. That goal in mind, she plunged her head down along his cock, letting it hit the back of her throat. She held back and gag and then swallowed, massaging the head of his cock before pulling her head back and letting it out of her mouth with a slurp. Her tongue danced along the underside and she lapped at the head, tasting his salty precum, her reward for a job well done, before taking him into her mouth again, pulling him out, taking her in.

  Valerie’s jaw began to ache, but she was determined, particularly as Jasper’s groans grew louder and his hand clutched ever more firmly at her hair.

  Finally, with a long groan, he pulled out of her mouth and held her head back with her hair, even as her lips sought for his cock.

  “That was very good,” he said to Valerie’s face, tilted upward and blindfolded. Her shoulders were thrown back, her breasts heaving at her corset, constantly threatening to spill out, her wrists still bound to her ankles.

  “Let me make you come,” she begged. Even more than she wanted her own throbbing need satisfied, she wanted to at least hear him orgasm, feel his beautiful cock pulse in his mouth as he released it into her.

  “Not just yet,” he said. He walked around back of her and unlatched something, then took her by the elbow. “Stand,” he said, and she did. “The bed is about four feet to your left. Kneel on it.”

  Valerie did as she was told, feeling the slippery softness of the satin sheets underneath her, feeling awkward and ungainly as she climbed onto the high bed using only her knees, constantly afraid she’d tip over, off the bed.

  Mr. Declan wouldn’t let that happen, she thought. It was a safe thought.

  Once on the bed she scooted forward, kneeling, and Jasper guided her hands to where they’d been before, locked them to her knees.

  “Bend forward until your face is on the bed,” he said, and Valerie did, the position awkward and unnatural. She felt the blood rush into her face and was glad the blindfold hid most of it.

  “Spread your knees apart,” Jasper said, and she found her bonds let her move her feet and knees away from each other, though they were still chained to her hands. “Farther,” he said. “Farther.” He only seemed to finally approve when she felt she might be split in two, her ass high in the air, cunt, clit, and back hole covered only by the thin string of her thong as she felt his fingers traverse it.

  Roughly, he yanked on her thong, the fabric biting into the front of her thighs and then finally giving way with a tear before it collapsed around one knee.

  “You have the prettiest little cunt,” Jasper whispered, stroking her lips with his hand. She’d shaved it that afternoon, in her tiny shower, hoping that exactly this would happen.

  “Please fuck me,” she said, her face half buried in the comforter. Every touch of his made her cunt ache more and more, and as he ran his fingers along her slick folds, she felt the pressure build, the dizzying feeling that she might come from pure anticipation.

  “I’ll do whatever I want,” he said. He pinched her clit and she moaned loudly, into the duvet, unable to contain herself any longer, and then his hands disappeared.

  Valerie didn’t move. She knew better than to move, knew it was better to stay there, face down and ass up, and wait for him to do whatever he wanted. She understood now why he hadn’t liked it when she presented herself in his office: he wanted to be in control.

  Jasper was behind her again, one hand cupping her ass, his thumb stroking up and down her soaking cunt. Then she felt something at her opening, something cool and hard, not Jasper’s cock—besides, he was standing too far away.

  “This will be a lot, but I think you can take it,” he said, and he wiggled whatever it was up and down, back and forth, sliding it in between her pussy lips. It was bigger than anything Valerie had ever felt there before, almost impossibly big, she thought, as it invaded her slowly.

  Valerie gasped and groaned as her cunt stretched around the huge dildo, and she was helpless to do anything besides remember the word hippopotamus, a word she had absolutely no intention of saying just then.

  It seemed to enter and enter, slowly, bringing with it a white-hot pleasure that made Valerie gasp and squirm, arching her back as if to offer herself even more. At last, it stopped entering, in as far as it could go.

  “Oh god,” Valerie moaned, hips thrusting as if of their own accord. “Oh god, oh god.”

  Jasper laughed to himself, softly, and then Valerie heard a buzzing noise. A moment later, he had a vibrator pressed to her clit and a jolt went through Valerie, tensing and then releasing all her muscles at once.

  “Oh, Jesus, please,” she said. Her head felt almost unattached, as if such pleasure were making her high. “Don’t stop, Mr. Declan. Please let me come this tim
e.”

  In response he began to move the huge dildo back and forth, in and out. It didn’t take much: the slightest motion made Valerie shout nonsense syllables in pleasure, and she felt as though she might burst wide open from the sheer pleasure. The vibrator on her clit buzzed away as the dildo worked her and she moaned, non-stop.

  “All right, Valerie,” Jasper said. “You can—“

  His permission was drowned out by her long, loud moan, loud even through the thick cover of the duvet she’d buried her face in.

  “Fuck me, Mr. Declan!” she shouted, moving her hips as much as she could. In response he pumped the dildo in and out of her, moving and twisting it, under the last shudder had moved through her body and she lay on the bed, prone and spent.

  Valerie was almost unable to move. She was still bound, for one thing, and the enormous dildo was still deep inside her, for another, but she was so exhausted from her hard orgasm that she just wanted to lay right there, face down, and fall asleep. Then she heard a rustling sound behind her, almost a slick, goopy sound, and seconds later she heard a grunt and felt the unmistakable hot splatter of cum across her ass, pussy and thighs, and then a sigh.

  There was another rustle as Jasper wiped his hands, and then he undid her bonds, freeing her wrists, unlocking and removing her shoes.

  “Stand up and go shower,” he said. “You can use one of the robes in there.”

  When she was on her feet, he slid the blindfold from her eyes, and there he was: blue eyes, gray hair, the same subtle lines around his mouth, across his forehead. At some point he’d taken off his jacket and was standing there in his vest, shirtsleeves rolled up, powerful forearms bulging.

  Valerie, wearing nothing but a corset, realized that was the most skin she’d ever seen him show, and she’d just given him a blow job.

  “Go on. I’ll be here,” he said.

  Valerie took a long time in the shower, not totally sure what to feel. The sex had been incredible, mind blowing, but that was the problem: was she the kind of person who wanted to be tied up and spanked, who wanted to beg on her hands and knees to be allowed to orgasm?

  If her cunt was to be believed, the answer was a resounding yes.

  She toweled off slowly, looking at herself in the mirror: she was bigger than average, but had a classic hourglass shape. Despite everything she’d always liked her body for its softness, its plushness, and as she’d gotten older, she’d liked it for its ability to make men stare. Jasper liked it too, she guessed. Valerie wrapped herself in a bathrobe and went back into the room.

  It reeked of sex, but Jasper had started the air conditioner and so a subtle breeze blew in from somewhere, smelling of lavender. He sat in a plush armchair, and Valerie sat in another, facing him.

  “You enjoyed that?” he asked.

  “I did,” Valerie said. Despite what had happened not fifteen minutes ago, she blushed.

  He nodded, and was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

  “What I’m about to ask you I’ve never asked of anyone,” he said. “Because I’ve never met someone quite like you.”

  Valerie swallowed. “What is it?” she said.

  “How would you feel about doing this full-time?”

  Valerie’s eyebrows shot up. “Full-time?”

  He nodded again.

  “You mean... sex full-time?”

  He smiled his easy smile and laughed. “I mean full-time submission.”

  Valerie’s eyes widened. “I don’t know,” she said.

  “We could try it for a while,” he said. “A week. If it’s not right for you, we stop. No strings.”

  Valerie stared into the fire for a long time, thinking about it. Her life would be different, that was for sure, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to give that up.

  “I’ll do it if I get Sundays off,” she said. “That was incredible, but I need some time off.”

  Jasper smiled. “Perfect,” he said. He stood and moved to her chair, towering over her yet again, and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll start simply. You’re now forbidden to wear underwear while at work.”

  “Yes, Mr. Declan,” Valerie said.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday night, Valerie couldn’t sleep. Every time she’d start to drift off, she’d jerk awake, Mr. Declan’s face floating in front of her, and she’d remember what the next day held. Her stomach was in a knot, and she felt a mixtures of dread, trepidation, and arousal.

  It was going to be an adventure, that was for sure.

  Around three in the morning, she had plenty of time to reflect on the situation, lying awake, watching the reflections of headlights move across the opposite wall of her Brooklyn studio. She didn’t think of her self as someone who’d agree to a submissive lifestyle; she thought of herself as spunky, sassy, outgoing, smart—not the kind of girl who’d beg a man to let her give him a blow job, but then that had happened. And she’d meant it.

  And she’d been wildly, excruciatingly turned on.

  She got up before six and tried to do her usual morning ritual: coffee, Lucky Charms, shower, dress, but she couldn’t manage to forget what was about to happen. The coffee tasted a little off and she couldn’t finish the cereal, which was a bad sign. Usually she was a stress eater, as her ample figure proved, but right now she was so nervous she didn’t think she could keep anything down.

  Valerie went through four outfits, at least. First was a wrap dress that she loved until she remembered the new rule: no panties. Though if they were only doing this at work, could she wear panties on the train, take them off in the lobby? Riding the subway with no underwear just seemed unsanitary, somehow, and Valerie didn’t want to wear pants all day with no underwear on.

  The next outfit was an A-line skirt and blouse, but then she remembered Marilyn Monroe and the subway grate. The skirt went back into the closet.

  She didn’t even put the white skirt on. That was an obvious no.

  Finally, she settled on a black pencil skirt, one of three she owned since they made the most of her body type: cushioned through the hip and thigh, smaller at the waist, and an ample bust. As always, she checked out her ass in the mirror, reminding herself to take her underwear off before she saw Mr. Declan at work, then she rushed out the door.

  Valerie spent the walk from the subway to her office building psyching herself up. She knew she could still say no and leave this whole crazy thing behind. Hell, she knew she probably should leave this crazy thing behind, and every day she went to work fully intending to fuck him again, it probably got worse. But she couldn’t, quite; as soon as she made up her mind, she thought of being tied to a hotel bed, dildo deep in her pussy, totally at Mr. Declan’s mercy, and how she’d never felt quite so good before in her life.

  She entered the building, went to the floor her office was on, and went straight into the bathroom. She locked the stall behind herself, moved her hands up her thighs, hooked both thumbs onto her thong, and then pulled it off, stepping carefully out of it, balancing in her high heels. Then she held it, dangling in front of her face like some sort of dead flower, and considered the magnanimity of what she was about to do.

  The panties went into a zippered pocket in her handbag. No reason to pull it out by accident when she was just looking for her wallet.

  Mr. Declan wasn’t in yet when Valerie took her seat in her chair in front of his office and booted up her computer. So far, everything seemed normal apart from the occasional rush of air on her shaved pussy when she walked, and to be honest, she found that exciting, the knowledge that Mr. Declan would have complete access at any time.

  The mere thought made her wet, and she narrowed her eyes at her computer screen, trying to read her emails and distract herself from the ache she felt below.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jasper came in at eleven in the morning and went straight to his office, barely stopping to say hello to Valerie, and then shutting the door. Valerie’s heart hammered, even as she’d barely had the time to process what w
as going on. Another assistant, a nice young lady named Camille, caught her eye and made a surprised face, then got up and casually walked to Valerie’s desk.

  “Is something wrong?” she whispered.

  Valerie felt the pit of her stomach, sensitive all day, roil again. “Not that I know of,” she whispered back.

  Can she tell I’m not wearing underwear? She wondered.

  “Maybe he heard about Starbucks,” Camille whispered. “It’s probably about time.”

  For a moment, Valerie forgot about her underwear situation. “That could be,” she said. “I hope we get it.”

  “Yeah, you worked really hard on that. You were still here every night when I left.”

  Valerie darted her eyes at the other girl, suddenly wondering if she knew something. Camille blinked and Valerie decided it had just been a remark.

  Suddenly, the door to Mr. Declan’s office opened, and Camille stood up straight.

  “Could I see you for a moment?” he said to Valerie, then noticed Camille standing there. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good morning, Mr. Declan,” she said.

  Valerie stood and smoothed her skirt. His eyes didn’t flicker at all, and he betrayed no interest in the region from her waist down. Despite herself, Valerie was a little disappointed: for some reason, even though she knew his self-control first hand, she’d imagined that the sight of her with no panties on would inflame him so much he’d come in, toss her on his desk, and fuck her into tomorrow.

  Her cunt ached with the thought, actually, as she followed him into his office.

  “Close the door,” he said, and Valerie’s heart leapt into her throat. This was it. She closed it and stood by, nervously, against the wall.

  He sat in his big leather chair and looked at her, strangely. “Sit down,” he said, a touch impatient, and she did, carefully folding herself into a chair facing him, legs crossed at the ankles.