I could have gone off to the ladies’, of course. But I wanted to gaze at the picture as I came.
I crumpled my skirt up around my waist and pushed my right hand under the elastic of my panties. The cotton was soaked. I stroked one finger across my swollen clit. Pleasure shuddered through me. This wouldn’t take long at all.
I rocked back and forth on Krishna’s ergonomic chair, two fingers probing my wet folds and my thumb wriggling my clit. With my other hand, I plucked at my nipples. Vibration shimmered down internal strings to my core. My pussy clenched around my fingers. Everything tightened as I frigged myself hard, staring at the monitor.
What would it feel like, to be that woman? I’d never worn a strap-on, but sometimes I browsed the on-line toy stores, just out of curiosity. Some dildos offered bases designed to stimulate the clit. I’d even seen double-ended dildos, to penetrate both the fucker and the fucked. My hands busy, I imagined being filled by the fat base of my strap-on while I plunged into the ass of my helpless victim. I pictured Krishna splayed underneath me, his lean body straining against the bonds, the sand-colored ropes biting into his smooth, nut-brown skin. His black curls were plastered against his slender neck. His round butt tensed each time I entered him. I could hear him moan, cry, call my name, begging to be released, begging my pardon for making me wait so very long. I just fucked him harder. I knew that despite his protestations, that was what he wanted.
A sharp climax ripped through me, fierce and unexpected. Pleasure exploded between my legs, sending fragments spinning to my extremities. My eyes screwed shut, I rocked with the force of my come.
The orgasm left me trembling and weak, slumped against the chair back. When I had recovered enough to look around, I discovered that Krishna’s screen saver had kicked in, hiding the outrageous photos. I pulled down my skirt, wiped my sticky hands on his seat―it served him right for frustrating me―and typed in the password again so I could close his browser. I didn’t want him to know that I’d discovered his secret. Not yet.
I glanced around his cubicle one more time, making sure that I hadn’t left any tell-tale clues other than a faint odor of pussy. The doe-eyed, jet-haired beauty framed on his desk gave me a reproachful look. “Come on,” I said to her. “Lighten up. You’re just his sister. I’m not stealing him from you.” I refused to feel guilty for hacking Krishna’s machine. It was, after all, for his own good.
I’d been in lust with Krishna ever since he’d joined the company six months earlier. He looked like the hero from some Bollywood extravaganza: lush black hair that curled around his ears, eyes like molten chocolate, unblemished skin the color of varnished wood. His arched nose gave him a regal air. His ripe lips screamed to be kissed.
The other engineers wore polos and jeans. Krishna came to work everyday in pressed slacks and a white dress shirt. As the day warmed, he might unbutton the collar and roll up the sleeves. I’d think of excuses to walk by his cubicle, just to admire the contrast of the snowy fabric against the smooth, dark-furred skin of his forearms.
I’m the only woman in our twenty person development group. I’ve fended off advances from several of my team mates as well as from a manager or two over the years. I know better than to get involved with a co-worker. I’ve seen where that can lead.
But in Krishna’s case, I couldn’t help myself. Every night when I went home, I’d lecture myself about being professional, not letting my feelings undermine my future. Then I’d dig out my vibrator and pretend it was Krishna, telling myself that a little fantasy couldn’t hurt.
The next day I’d be back, trying to get Krishna’s attention.
Not that it did any good. He acted shy with everyone, but to me he barely said a word, though I put myself in his path as often as I could. I’d drop by, pretending to need his advice about some algorithm or asking about the status of his code. I’d gossip about the latest upper management pronouncements. I’d drop hints, telling him I was going away for the weekend, sighing about the fact that I had to do it alone. I invited him for coffee, for lunch―he was always too busy, or so he told me.
“Are you married?” I asked him finally, determined to be rude if I had to. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Oh, no,” he replied, looking flustered. “Not yet. I don’t have enough money to marry. That’s why I’m here in the States.”
“Who’s that, then?” I pointed to the photo on his neat desk, a voluptuous woman wearing a sari and a sweet expression.
“That’s Sita, my younger sister. Actually, I’m trying to earn enough for her dowry as well.” He glanced down at his long-fingered hands, spread across his keyboard, then back at me, seeming confused. “Excuse me, but I’ve got to get back to work, Liz. Sorry.”
What the hell was wrong? I’m no movie star, but I’m attractive enough, if you like the slender, athletic type rather than busty cheesecake. I’m the smartest person on the team―I’m not bragging, ask anyone―and I’ve got a decent personality. I’m creative, helpful, sociable, occasionally even funny. I’ve also got a wicked imagination, though most of my mates don’t know about that. Why was Krishna completely insensible to my charm?
Now I knew. My Krishna’s desires were just a bit―unusual. I was confident, though, that I could give him what he wanted. Especially considering my own reaction to his dirty pictures.
I should put together a plan, I thought, staring at the code on my own screen around lunch time. The low-level hum between my legs made it difficult to concentrate. I should do some research. Buy some equipment. I’m usually the careful, methodical type. Self-discipline is my middle name. I’d waited six months; I could stand waiting a few days longer.
Something in me rebelled at the notion. My body screamed with impatience. Deep down, too, I was a bit worried that if I waited, I’d lose my nerve.
“Hey, Liz.” I started and blushed, surprised in my reverie by the object of my machinations.
“Oh! Krishna!” I moved a pile of books off my extra chair. “Come on in. Sit down.” Had he sensed my concentrated lust beaming in his direction? I brushed my hair out of my eyes. Lately I’d been trying to let it grow. I wanted to look more feminine.
“Ah―no, that’s okay. I just wanted to make sure that you check in all your work tonight before you leave. I’m doing a major backup of the repository.” In addition to his development duties, Krishna also served as system administrator for our group.
“Um―of course. Definitely.” I smoothed my skirt over my thighs, glad that I hadn’t worn jeans.
“Good. I’ll start the scripts around ten PM. You’ll be finished by then, right?”
“You know me. I’m a morning person. I’m never here after six. But you should probably talk to Steve and Rob.”
“Yes, I will. I’m going around letting everyone know.” So he hadn’t just come to see me. I was ridiculously disappointed. “See you later.”
“Yeah. See you later, Krishna.” I watched him make his graceful way down the aisle between the two rows of dividers.
Ten PM tonight. I digested this information as I chewed my chicken sandwich. Krishna would be, in all likelihood, alone in the office. Alone except for me, that is.
I forced myself to sit in front of my screen all afternoon, although there was no way I was going to get any work done. I resisted the urge to visit Babeland or Adam and Eve to check out some of the toys. I knew that was dangerous. The company might well have installed spy software to monitor our browsing.
A chill shot through me. If they did have snoop tools installed, they’d know about Krishna’s kink. They’d fire him. Hell, he was H1-B―they’d send him back to India.
I calmed my racing heart. No use worrying. None of that was going to happen tonight. Tonight I was going to give Krishna what he wanted. What he deserved.
I left the office on the dot of five. Once home, I booted my laptop and searched for bondage information. I only had a few hours, but I was determined to learn as much as I could about tools and techniques. Wikip
edia had a great article about shibari, complete with amazing photos of rope-tangled flesh and links to primary sources. I found sites dedicated to duct tape and others specializing in handcuffs.
I couldn’t eat. I drank a glass of orange juice as I paged through photos and skimmed blogs. Finally, around eight, I lay down in my darkened bedroom and closed my eyes. My head spun with kinky images and advice. My pussy was soaked and swollen. What was I going to do to Krishna? I really didn’t know. I’d just have to trust my instincts.
The building was mostly dark when I drove into the parking lot. A motion sensor switched on an overhead light as I approached the door. I punched in my security code. A buzz, a click and I was in the lobby. The guard’s desk was unoccupied. The click of my heels echoed through the dim, empty corridors.
I slipped through the fire doors that led to my group’s space. The glassed-in server room was lit, plus the ceiling fluorescents above Krishna’s office. The floor was carpeted in this area; I moved without a sound.
Krishna sat with back to me, focused on his screen. From where I stood, outside his cubicle, I couldn’t see what he was gazing at so intently. But I could guess.
“Krishna,” I murmured.
He swiveled around, simultaneously flicking the off switch on his monitor. I could the tell that the move was well-practiced. “Liz! What are you doing here?” He backed the chair towards the desk as I entered, trying to put more distance between us.
“I came to visit you. I thought you might be lonely.” I took another step forward. He had nowhere to go. An embarrassed grin stretched his lush lips.
His shirt was open to the middle button. A gold chain nestled in the black curls between his breasts. He was breathing hard; the rise and fall of his chest made the necklace glitter. I dropped my gaze to his lap. As I expected, I found a significant bulge.
“Um―no―I’m fine―just making sure the backups are all right. I was going to leave in a few minutes…”
I brushed a fingertip across the lump in his groin. He shivered. His nervous smile evaporated. “Don’t go yet,” I crooned. “I just got here.”
I had changed out of my work clothes. I now wore a tight purple jersey with a V neck that flattered my modest breasts, and a short denim skirt. I trailed a finger down my throat to my cleavage. Krishna’s eyes followed in fascination. I retraced my path to my throat, the feathery touch making my nipples pebble, and removed the scarf I’d draped around my neck.
He gripped the curved arms of his desk chair, as though he were afraid he was going to faint. I slipped the scarf under the chair arm and wrapped it twice around his wrist, then tied a firm knot. He didn’t move. The lavender silk was lovely against his brown skin.
“Is that too tight?” My voice was barely louder than a whisper. Krishna shook his head. His eyes were black pools of lust. I pulled a second scarf from my back pocket, this one turquoise, and secured his other arm. He trembled when I touched him.
I seated myself on his lap. His erection poked deliciously at my bottom, even through the heavy denim of my skirt. He must be huge, I thought. I’d know before long.
His beautiful face hovered inches from mine. He dropped his eyes, focusing on his bound wrist. “No,” I protested, lifting his chin so that he could not look away. “Look at me, for once. I’ve been trying to get your attention for months. You’re not getting away from me this time.”
Krishna’s lips parted, as though he was about to speak. I stopped him with a fierce kiss. At first he resisted, struggling against the scarves, his lips pressed tightly together to keep me out. I braced my palms against his chest and bore down on him, prying those lips apart with my tongue.
All at once he let go. His mouth was as lush and hot as it looked, tasting of coffee and anise. I fed on him, nibbling and sucking, pouring out my long-denied lust. He opened to me, not exactly passive, but giving me control.
My bare thighs grew damp with the heat of that kiss. My nipples peaked into aching knots. His smell surrounded me, soap and sweat and the coconut oil he used on his hair. His rod prodded the crack between my legs. I burrowed deeper into his mouth, kissing him harder.
He arched up, grinding himself against my ass. I broke the kiss and hopped off his lap. “Oh no you don’t! That belongs to me.”
“Please, Liz…” Krishna looked miserable and needy.
“Oh, now you’re begging!” I strutted back and forth in front of him on my high-heeled boots, giving him an eyeful of my slutty outfit. “Maybe I should just leave you here, tied up and frustrated. After all, you’ve frustrated me for an awfully long time.”
“No, please…”
“What will Steve and Rob think when they come in tomorrow and find you tied to your chair? And when they turn on your monitor?”
I reached over his shoulder to click the switch. As I’d expected, the screen was full of kinky images, men hogtied and suspended, secured in a hundred uncomfortable positions, all with huge, hungry erections.
Krishna looked terrified. “Don’t tell anyone―please don’t tell! They’ll deport me if they find out…”
“Your secret is safe with me.” I tangled my fingers in his opulent hair. “Provided that you cooperate, of course.”
He didn’t bother to ask me what I meant.
I took a moment to drink in the gorgeous picture he made. If his complexion had been lighter, I knew I would have seen the blood heating his cheeks. The festive scarves looked like they’d be pretty effective in keeping him where he was. But they weren’t enough, I sensed. Not for him.
I scanned his office, seeking inspiration, kicking myself for not having brought some of the heavy twine that I used to tie up the bougainvillea on my balcony. On the other hand, the twine might be too coarse. It might seriously damage that flawless dark skin.
Krishna watched me, eyes wide, frightened and expectant. The weight of his need settled on me like a two ton boulder. Suddenly I felt lost. What was I doing? What did I know about bondage? I paced around the office, trying to act confident and bossy. Playing for time.
Don’t screw things up now, Liz. He squirmed a bit against the silk, testing the strength of the bonds. My pussy spasmed at the sight. Think.
I was getting desperate. Then my eyes lighted on the pile of Cat 5 Ethernet cables coiled neatly in the corner. Aha! Once again I gave thanks for Krishna’s role as sysadmin.
I turned my back on him, bending from the waist to rummage through the collection. My skirt rode up, revealing the purple silk panties that clung to my ass. Krishna’s gaze was a hot spotlight on my scarcely concealed flesh. Could he see the dampness of my inner thighs?
Each cable was labeled in my victim’s precise handwriting. I selected one marked as ten meters. Should be long enough. As an afterthought, I grabbed a couple of short lengths as well. All three were an electric blue color, which I thought would harmonize nicely with the scarves..
I hadn’t thought Krishna’s eyes could open wider. I was wrong.
“No, Liz…don’t…”
“I’ll do what I want.” I was already wrapping the longer cable around his torso. The plastic-sheathed wire circled under his arms and across the back of his chair. I made four or five loops across his chest, careful to align them nicely in parallel stripes across his snow-white shirt. The vivid blue strands were tight enough to indent the fabric and to dig in slightly where they crossed his partially bared chest.
Krishna released a deep moan.
“Too tight?” I paused in my labors, brushing my hair away from my sweaty forehead. His eyes were closed, long lashes feathering his beautiful brown cheeks. I reached into his lap to squeeze his erection through his trousers. His eyes snapped open. He was harder than ever.
“No, no, it’s just…I shouldn’t…what if someone sees…”
“That’s my problem, not yours. You don’t have any choice anymore. In fact, I think I need to gag you to stop you from complaining.”
“Gag me?” His face registered true terror, yet his soli
d cock leaped in my hand. I decided to believe his cock.
I dragged my skirt up to my waist and shimmied out of my panties. The ocean smell of my pussy filled the cubicle. “Open wide,” I told him.
Shame, fear and desire battled in his elegant face. I laid a palm against his smooth cheek. “Open your mouth, Krishna,” I murmured, trying to make my voice gentle. “I know you want to. It’s okay.”
Our eyes met. I saw him melt. I sensed his sudden trust. A bolt of lust sizzled through me. I held the drenched undergarment under his nose. His nostrils flared. Slowly his ripe lips parted. I stuffed the damp ball of crumpled silk into his mouth. He coughed.
“Breathe through your nose,” I told him, remembering what I’d read. “That’s a good boy.”
I hurried to finish the binding I’d planned, eager to get to the next stage. After tying the long cables in a knot behind his chair, I bent to secure his legs with the shorter lengths of wire. It would have been easier if he’d been sitting in a normal chair. I rounded each ankle several times. Then I had to fasten the cable to one of the supports radiating from the star-shaped base. It looked messy, but I hoped that it was stable and tight enough to excite him.
I stood back to survey the result. It took my breath away.
Sturdy blue cables lashed Krishna’s lean body to his chair. The muscles in his thighs tensed under his neat slacks as he strained against his bonds. His mouth was wadded with shocking purple. Damp jet curls tumbled over his brow, making him look boyish yet somehow dissolute. The naked V of chest exposed by his unbuttoned shirt gleamed with perspiration. Tendrils of black hair curled around the wires compressing his tawny flesh. His nipples poked out between two parallel strands like pink pearls.
The fact that he was mostly dressed, the shelf of technical books in the background, the computer monitor blinking behind his trussed form, only made the picture more lewd. There was only one thing missing.
I knelt between his thighs, spread wide by the cables around his ankles. Forcing myself to move slowly, to build the suspense, I reached for his fly.
Just A Spanking: Tales of Dominance and Submission Page 2