Training Tessa (Hot Texas Bosses BDSM Erotica)

by Sinclair, Lyla

  The weekend had been rough. Jill and her fiancé, along with a couple of his friends had started emptying the apartment of non-essentials.

  I helped out of course, but with people in every room of the apartment until late, I couldn’t do what I was desperate to do—fantasize about my boss while molesting myself all weekend.

  So, here I was bright and early Monday morning in my nearly-sheer blouse and highest heels, hoping for more “tough love.”

  The tediousness of the morning nearly drove me crazy. I was working on some spreadsheets again, which only reminded me of Friday’s punishments.

  I caught myself daydreaming over and over again, then I’d have to go back through the numbers to make sure I hadn’t messed anything up.

  A part of me was sure this situation couldn’t end well. Playing sex games with your boss was a bad idea. Playing sex games with two competitive brothers who were both your bosses was a terrible one.

  Not to mention confusing. I wanted Dixon. I loved the way his blue eyes twinkled at me. I loved the smell of him. I needed him to rip the clothes from my body and take me on the floor of his office.

  However, when Mason was punishing me, I got aroused, despite my longing for his brother.

  The truth was, my body enjoyed every moment of Mason’s humiliating torture, even though I wasn’t sure I liked him.

  I looked at my computer screen. Should I make a mistake on purpose so I could get another punishment?

  But sabotaging financial records probably wasn’t in my best interest long-term.

  I kept reminding myself this was a job and I really needed it, so I’d better keep my head in the game.

  Finally, at two, the brothers came in together. I assumed they’d had lunch.

  Mason was in his usual black suit, white dress shirt. But it was Dixon who held my gaze in his black button-down and jeans that showed off his tight round ass. Those were “fuck-me jeans” for sure.

  The brothers seemed more jovial with each other than usual. I wondered if they’d discussed my punishments. My face flushed at the thought.

  “Tessa, I jotted down some things I want my housekeeper to pick up.” Mason handed me a napkin.

  The writing on it was obviously his, with its small, perfectly formed letters.

  “Please type it up and email it to me so I can forward it to her.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  They fell back into conversation as they walked down the hall toward their offices. I was disappointed that Dixon hadn’t even bothered with a greeting.

  I quickly typed up the list and sent it to Mason. The spreadsheets beckoned, so I sighed and got back to work.

  Ten minutes later, Mason called me into his office.

  As I stood in front of his desk, my hands were clenched together in nervous anticipation.

  He didn’t acknowledge me at first. He just stared down at the document he was reading, pen in hand.

  I breathed deeply, trying to slow my heartbeat, but I couldn’t stop the odd tingling sensation of fear and need mixed together.

  Finally, he looked up at me and put his pen down. “Bring that chair around.” He pointed to a simple pioneer-style wooden chair, posed under a Remington painting of horses on the wall.

  When I picked it up, I was surprised at how light it was. The seat appeared to be made from actual rawhide.

  I placed the chair where he indicated, behind his desk, next to his.

  “Sit down.”

  As I sat, I inhaled deeply. The scent of his cologne made me dizzy.

  Or was it the fact that I was so close to the man who scared the shit out of me and excited me simultaneously?

  He pointed to his computer screen. “Do you notice anything there?”

  I realized it was the email with the grocery list. I skimmed it to see what the problem was.

  “You misspelled ‘broccoli.’”

  Damn, I always misspelled “broccoli.” But was it really that big a deal?

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you not learn last week that I expect my employees to be meticulous and exemplary in every way?”

  “Well, yes, but since it was only a grocery list—”

  He turned from the computer and met my gaze. His dark eyes burned into mine.

  “I don’t send messages with typos, no matter who is going to read them.”

  “Okay. I’ll remember that next time.” I squirmed under his intense gaze.

  “I’d better make sure you do. Take off your blouse.”

  My blouse? I was hoping for another spanking today, but why would I take off my blouse?

  My lips parted, but I didn’t know what to say, so I stared at him, bewildered.

  “Now.” His dark gaze demanded it even more than his tone of voice.

  I squeezed my lids shut and reached for the first button. When I opened my eyes, he was watching my fingers, but his expression hadn’t changed.

  If he had looked at me with desire, or affection, or even mischief, like his brother did sometimes, undressing in front of him might have been easier. Instead, he just stared at me with his stony gaze.

  I finished unbuttoning and took off the blouse, letting it drop behind me in the chair.

  “Now the bra.”

  My hands trembled as I reached back and unclasped my bra. I slid the straps down my arms and let it fall into my lap.

  He opened a drawer and took an item from it.

  At first I wasn’t sure what he was holding, but a second later, a vague memory of a tipsy trip to an erotic store with some of my friends back home occurred to me.

  He was holding nipple clamps with a silver chain connecting them.

  I wanted to run away. My breasts were so sensitive.

  As he held the clamps toward me, I leaned back, but the chair stopped me.

  “Be still,” he said as he fastened them onto my nipples.

  The feel of the cold metal sent a shiver down my spine. Twin shocks of pain jarred through me. But once the clamps were on for several seconds, there was more pressure than pain.

  This isn’t so bad.

  He tugged on the chain.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed as pain burst through my body once again. Warm cream rushed to my pussy.

  He acted as though he didn’t notice. “Put the chair back where it was.”

  I stood, draped my blouse over my arm and carried the chair back to its place against the wall. When I turned he was directly behind me.

  “That’s not where it was,” he said as he placed a finger against the clamp chain and twisted until it looped around his digit. “You need to learn to be more deliberate in your actions, Tessa.”

  He twisted one more time. The slack left the chain and pain sliced through my nipples. But the sensation somehow turned to pleasure by the time it reached my crotch.

  He released it.

  “Now put the chair in the correct spot.”

  I examined the wall. The chair should be directly underneath the painting, but I’d set it off-center to the right.

  What would happen if I misplaced it again? As I lifted the chair a second time, fear and need battled inside me.

  Need won. I intentionally overcorrected and set the chair too far to the left.

  Before I could release the chair and straighten, Mason’s hand was on my back, pushing me down.

  I caught myself with my palms on the rawhide seat.

  “Don’t move.” I heard him rustling behind me. He was unbuckling his belt.

  My heart raced.

  He raised my skirt and the stiff fabric stuck there at my waist. Reaching around with his left hand he wound his finger into the chain again.

  My breasts ached.

  Whack!

  His thick belt burned my thighs. My body shook with need.

  “Why are you so incompetent on the simplest tasks?”

  Whack!

  Pulses bolted from my ass to my fingertips.

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  “Y
ou will learn…”

  Whack!

  “To follow instructions…”

  Whack!

  “And complete your work perfectly.”

  Whack!

  The backs of my thighs seared as though he’d taken a branding iron to them. This was too much.

  “Yes, sir.” My legs were so weak I thought I’d collapse.

  I needed him to stop this now. And I needed to be fucked, but it wasn’t him I was imagining fucking me.

  “I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he said. “Get back to work.”

  I picked up my blouse that had fallen on the floor.

  “Leave the clamps on. Leave the bra here. I have work to do.”

  Tears broke through and hung in the corners of my eyes. I rushed out of the office and into the bathroom.

  How could he be so cruel as to humiliate me, get me so needy, and throw me out of his office?

  I’d awakened this morning thinking maybe I loved this job and now I hated it. My body was pulsing and stinging and burning.

  I was too angry to try to satisfy myself in the bathroom this time. I put my blouse on over the clamps and went to make some copies, allowing the rhythmic hum of the machine to ease the tension away.

  By the time five o’clock rolled around, the monotony of copying and filing had calmed me.

  As I returned to the reception desk, Mason strode up, apparently ready to go, with his hat on, briefcase in hand.

  “Tessa,” he said, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Yes?” I tried to sound as though his presence didn’t intimidate and confuse me.

  He reached up, grasping the chain through my thin blouse and tugged.

  A strange warble sounded in my throat.

  “I expect perfection from now on.”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  He released the chain, turned on his heel and walked out.

  *****

  After a few calming breaths, I headed for the bathroom to remove the clamps. I certainly didn’t want the security guard or the parking attendant—or worse, the nice lady from the office next door—to notice them as I left the building.

  But just as I reached the bathroom, I heard a voice calling my name.

  I turned and noticed Dixon’s office door was open a few inches, although I couldn’t see him.

  “Tessa, is that you?”

  “Yes,” I said hoarsely. I cleared my throat.

  “Come in here, please.”

  I took a deep breath and pushed his door open.

  He was sitting in the big leather chair behind his desk. The black shirt made him look more dangerous.

  God, that turned me on.

  I walked toward him, but stopped halfway between the desk and the door, hoping he wouldn’t notice my chest from that distance.

  “Closer,” he said. “I won’t bite.” His wicked grin said he was lying.

  Trying to keep my upper body as still as possible so the chain wouldn’t sway under my blouse, I stepped closer.

  His eyes skimmed me, from the top of my up-done hair to my heels. They darted back to my chest.

  Damn.

  “What’s going on there?” He waggled a finger back and forth indicating my chest area.

  “Hmm? Um…nothing.” Maybe he’d buy it. This situation was too bizarre to reveal to anyone.

  “Unbutton your blouse.”

  Oh no! I didn’t want him to know what his brother had done to me. I especially didn’t want him to know that I’d enjoyed it in some perverse way. I really didn’t like Mason when he wasn’t disciplining me.

  But his brother was a different story.

  Dixon was still staring at me. Waiting. I knew there was no use arguing, so I complied.

  “Pull it open.”

  I grasped the sides of the blouse and separated them, revealing the nipple clamps. I didn’t have to look down to know my chest was turning splotchy red from embarrassment.

  “Where did you get those?” He looked like he already knew.

  “Your brother.” I felt the flush crawling up my neck. I couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “What happened?” His tone was forced calm. He seemed angrier than he was Friday.

  “I misspelled a word on his grocery list.”

  “So he punished you.”

  “Yes.”

  His arms had been resting on the arms of his chair, but he sat forward, putting his weight on them. His look was intense.

  “Did he touch you?”

  What did that mean? Mason had punished me, but had he actually touched me? What was his brother asking?

  “He punished me, but he used the clamps and the belt.”

  Dixon relaxed against the back of his chair. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was jealous.

  But that couldn’t be. This was just a bizarre game they were playing with their new office girl. Wasn’t it?

  “My brother doesn’t know anything about disciplining employees…or women.”

  Did he mean his brother didn’t know anything about disciplining women or didn’t know anything about women, period? I decided it didn’t matter.

  “Take off your blouse and come here.” Dixon’s voice was gentle, as though he was going to make everything right. Although I wasn’t sure which part he thought was wrong, since my bosses had such weird ideas about appropriate office behavior.

  After I laid my blouse on a guest chair, I rounded the desk. He rolled his chair back and patted his thighs.

  Seriously? I stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond to his offer, but he watched me expectantly.

  Tentatively, I settled onto his lap.

  His left arm cradled my shoulders. With his right hand, he pulled my legs up so they hung over the armrest of his chair.

  As I became aware of all the places my body pressed against his, I noticed how different he smelled than his brother. His scent was so subtle, I couldn’t be sure if I was smelling soap, or shampoo, or just him.

  Whatever it was, I liked it. I took a deeper breath to try to get more.

  “First, we need to get rid of these,” he said as he removed one clamp, then the other. “My brother is a little medieval in his methods.” He laid the clamps on his desk.

  When he brought his hand back, it rested on my breast. My lungs shivered as I breathed.

  His thumb skimmed over my flesh, massaging my tortured nub.

  I realized that my nipple had numbed during the afternoon. But as he pressed and swirled, it returned to life and began sending waves of sensation down my torso.

  He moved to the other breast and worked the feeling into that nipple. His touch was so arousing and so comforting at the same time.

  He’d been gazing at my breasts as he worked, seemingly mesmerized. Suddenly he looked into my eyes.

  “I almost forgot you weren’t properly punished yet.”

  I felt my eyes grow wide as a tingle travelled through my limbs.

  What would he do to me?

  He bowed his head until his lips made contact with my breast. Opening his mouth, he took the tip into his moist heat. His tongue drew a circle around my nipple in a tantalizing tease, without actually touching it.

  Ohhhh! You can punish me like this any time.

  As he moved over to the other breast, my body relaxed into him, except for my clit, which was pulsing with hope for more.

  Pain exploded through me as I realized he’d bitten me.

  The punishment!

  I struggled, but he held me tightly. He moved back to the first breast and sucked the nipple so hard, I thought he would tear it from my body.

  “Please!” I begged as tears gathered in my eyes.

  His lips relaxed on my skin and his tongue comforted my tortured bud.

  He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. How could anyone be this much more handsome up close than from a distance?

  As he gazed at me, his eyes darkened and his face took on a more sultry expression.

  “There’s s
omething else my brother doesn’t understand,” he said. His palm made contact with my inner thigh, above my knee. “He doesn’t realize that sometimes employees need to be rewarded too… Spread your legs.”

  I couldn’t spread them far, considering the position I was still in, on his lap, knees draped over his armrest. But I managed to allow enough space for his hand to reach my crotch through the cotton fabric.

  His finger rubbed in the vicinity of my clit, and I wished I’d worn silk panties. The cotton was blocking some of the sensation. Sighing in frustration, I pushed my pelvis up for more.

  He smiled mischievously and stroked harder. It was so close to what I needed, but not quite.

  Stupid underwear!

  Lowering his head, he took my breast in his mouth again, sucking hard as he swirled around my panty-clad clit with his thumbnail.

  He nibbled and tremors jolted from my nipple and clit simultaneously, colliding in my middle, settling back between my thighs.

  I moaned and wiggled.

  “Please!” I said again.

  He lifted his head. “What do you need from me Tessa?” he asked huskily.

  My lower regions had been crying out for relief so long. Yet, when he looked into my eyes, I was hit with an overwhelming desire to have it all from him.

  “You,” I whispered. “I want you to kiss me.”

  He went still as a statue. His brow knitted. His eyes darkened. I watched his lips open with the slightest quiver.

  He wanted me. He wanted me like I wanted him.

  What was he thinking about? His tongue moved out ever-so-slowly and moistened his bottom lip.

  I could almost feel his warm lips on mine. Why didn’t he kiss me?

  Suddenly, he stood, lifting me off his lap and onto my feet in one swift movement. I staggered, but the desk behind me kept me from falling.

  “I don’t think that would be appropriate in an employee-employer relationship,” he said briskly.

  Kissing wasn’t appropriate, but sucking on my breasts was fine?

  “I think we need to avoid getting too personal.”

  Oooh-kaaay… I wondered if I should put my blouse back on and leave.

  “Take off your panties,” he said. When I looked at him quizzically, he added, “You didn’t get your reward yet.”

  My breathing accelerated again. What did he have in mind now?