by Juniper Bell
“Rules are rules. Either you play by the rules, or you don’t play.”
I wanted to play. And, after all, I’d brought this on myself. I’d brought up the issue of Brian’s belt. Why? Better not to ask that question right now. I hung my head, hoping he’d interpret it as a nod.
“Well?”
I nodded.
“I need to hear you speak. Will you accept your punishment?”
Curse him. Curse him to hell and back. “Yes.”
“Come here and lie across my lap.”
I brightened right away. That didn’t sound like punishment at all. I crossed around the desk and stood next to him. His lap looked like it was already occupied—by a giant boner. It pressed against his pants like a circus tent pole. Elephants could fit under there. A lion tamer and some flying trapeze artists. A dancing bear, or five. “You want me to lie down there?”
“Yes. Right across my lap.” He spread his legs to give me a little more room.
I lay down carefully so as not to bend his boner the wrong way. I made room for it next to my ribcage. It gave off a steamy heat, even through the wool blend of his suit pants. It’s a good thing I’m not a particularly large girl. I’m on the short side, actually, and I was able to stretch across his lap and still be comfortable.
Until, that is, he yanked up my skirt and exposed my ass. I squirmed in shock. “Be still,” he barked, and spanked his hand against my ass. I muffled my shriek against his leg. He’d done it before, but this was different. This time, no fabric protected me from the stinging sensation. It was mortifying how wet it made me.
I couldn’t stop myself from wiggling. I wanted him to touch my pussy so badly. But his other hand pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning me like a captured butterfly. “I said be still.”
He slapped me again. I willed myself not to move. It wasn’t painful, more surprising. My bare flesh tingled. The beige carpet got blurry. I saw a stray paper clip under the desk. I felt a whoosh of air against my ass, then another whack.
“You’re mine,” he said with a growl.
Yes! I tried to say, but couldn’t catch my breath.
“Mine,” he repeated. This time, his hand didn’t leave my ass. Instead it stayed to fondle me. He ran his palm over my curves and in the hot crease between my legs.
“You like this?”
No! I wanted to say. But my body couldn’t lie. The truth was right there between my legs, wet and hungry. He knew. I felt his finger slide across my slippery folds.
“You like this?” he asked again.
Embarrassed, I mumbled something.
“What were you thinking about when that idiot made you come?”
With his finger pressing my clit, I couldn’t answer. He slapped his hand on my ass again, harder this time, and my pussy tightened.
“Tell me! What were you thinking about?”
“You! I was thinking about you.” I squirmed forward to rub myself against his leg.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He sounded satisfied. Almost smug. “This is punishment, remember? No getting off.” He reached under me and pinched the lips of my sex shut. I moaned. He stroked my ass cheeks again in soothing little circles. Just when I was lulled into a stupor, another spank came down. The force of it made my sex grind against his fingers, which were still clamped to my pussy. In another second I would explode, no matter what he said. What would be the punishment for that? I shuddered to think of it. I spread my legs apart so I wouldn’t feel quite so much friction against my clit.
“That’s right. Spread yourself open for me. How are you feeling? Nice and hot?”
“Yes,” I squeaked.
“Good. Now I’m going to put something inside you. It won’t hurt, I promise, but it will be a constant reminder of your wrongdoing.”
I craned my head to see what he was talking about. From his desk drawer, the one that seemed to hold all the goodies, he drew a small box. He took it out of sight to open it. The next moment, he pushed something hard and round, like a marble, inside me. At first it was cold, but as soon as it was in me, it warmed up. Not too bad. A little intrusive, a little ticklish, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
Then came another one. And another. The marbles pushed against each other and against my inner walls. I felt invaded. Taken over. Like my insides no longer belonged to me, but to Simon and his invisible toys.
“You should be grateful I’m not putting these up your ass. That will be for another day, when I can enjoy you the way I want to. Once you’re properly trained and behave with the kind of discipline suitable for a receptionist, we will revisit this situation. For now, accept your punishment and be grateful. Legs closer together, please.”
My breath ragged, I brought my legs together. I was still wearing my boots, but they didn’t seem to get in his way as he pulled a pair of undies onto me. I knew right away they weren’t the panties I’d put on that morning. The thong was gone. Instead, he was dressing me in a diabolical pair of panties that must have been created by some mad underwear scientist. Something was sewn into the crotch, and it rubbed against me in the most teasing, aggravating way imaginable. I rubbed my legs together. The friction was exquisite, but it did nothing to ease my need. The opposite, in fact.
“Stand up,” said Simon. “And hold your skirt up.”
I stood, clutching my skirt at my waist. He looked closely at my new panties then reached in to make a micro-adjustment. A tiny shift, but the way the beads, or whatever they were, now rubbed against my clit brought tears to my eyes.
“There. Much better. Now, one more thing.”
What more could there be? Just standing there, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin from the teasing. I dreaded my first step. He picked up something that looked like the thing you click to unlock your car.
“This, my dear, is a remote control. When I activate it, all those little balls inside you will vibrate.”
“No.” I felt faint at the thought.
“Oh, yes. They’ll buzz around like angry little bumblebees. Whatever you do, you have to make sure none of them escape the hive. They’re to stay there, each and every one, until I take them out. I will take them out when I feel you’re ready. Are you going to behave?”
“Yes.”
Either that, or I was going to die. I took a step. Fire streaked through my pussy. I stopped. Simon’s eyes, now clear as green glass, watched me closely. I gave him a desperate look.
“None of that. You should be thanking me right now for the orgasm you had earlier.”
He had a point. “Thank you,” I said faintly.
“That’s better. Now go along. Off to work with you.”
He put his serious work face on, while I toddled off to my desk. You can imagine what I went through simply walking down the hallway. It was like walking through fire, except the fire was all inside me, and everything outside was an irrelevant haze. The kitchenette passed in a blur. The door looked weirdly distorted, like some kind of monster movie. In order to keep the balls from pushing out, I had to walk with my legs close together. Only problem with that was, the tighter my legs, the more those beads rubbed against my crotch. Not only that, but I was afraid to walk too fast. I took it slow, which meant I didn’t miss a second of the fun and games. By the time I made it through the door, out into the foyer, I was just about out of my mind.
If Brian had been there, I would have thrown him down and made him fuck my brains out. Hell, if the hunchback janitor had been there, he would have gotten the same treatment.
Instead, I sat at my desk. How do you sit when you have a crotchful of marbles and little beads tickling your clit? Very, very carefully. Slowly, I lowered myself onto the cushioned seat. Instantly the pressure on my crotch increased. I froze. Maybe if I kept still, those darn beads wouldn’t excite me so much.
The phone rang. Damn it! It was Simon calling from his office. I leaned forward to answer, and got a sneak preview of the motion I would be making all afternoon. It was like lighting a b
onfire inside me. I groaned and picked up the phone. As I did so, I remembered something. The headset! If I had a headset, I wouldn’t have to move at all.
“You made it to your desk,” Simon said.
“Yes, I did. Are you proud?”
“Yes indeed. But you forgot something.” His voice teased me.
“If you’re referring to that massive stiffie in your pants, no, I haven’t forgotten it.”
A chuckle cruised over the phone line. “Neither have I. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’ve got your headset here. If you want it, you’ll have to come back and get it.”
Of course. The bastard. There was no way I could make it back down the hallway.
“I’ll be fine. But thanks for thinking of me.”
“I’ll be thinking of you the rest of the day. I hope you have an exciting afternoon.” His voice was beyond teasing. It was downright devilish.
“And I suppose you’ll be watching it on TV.”
“You’re very photogenic.”
That bastard. I turned to the right, in the direction of the invisible camera, and stuck out my tongue.
Chuckle, chuckle. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you stuck out your tongue on tape?”
Oops. Let’s see, I’d spent the morning getting my nipples teased. “This makes that look like a vacation.”
“Is that right?”
Suddenly I heard a low buzzing noise and a second later all hell broke loose inside me. The balls began vibrating and knocking against each other. I yelped out loud at the intense jolt of pure, raw sensation that jumped through me. Dropping the phone, I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop the shrieking.
After a few seconds that seemed like a century, the balls stopped. My inner walls didn’t get the message at first, but continued to jump and clutch at the balls. I gave myself a moment to recover my breath, then picked up the phone.
“Do you fully understand your situation now?” Simon’s voice sounded as stern as a high school principal’s.
“Y-yes. S…sorry about the tongue thing.”
“No worries. Your tongue will get a chance to apologize in person later on.”
Oh, that sly little comment was like the sun dawning. What did he have planned for my naughty, lucky tongue? I salivated at the images that flashed through my mind. Especially the image of his tented pants.
Before I thought better of it, I blurted, “So, about that stiffie of yours. Any plans to do anything about it?”
“Big plans.” The intimate tone in his voice made me shiver. “But it’s not the receptionist’s job to know all the details of her boss’s day.”
“The more information I have, the more help I can be to you. And I want to be as helpful as possible.” My tone was professional, but purry at the same time. The purr had worked on Brian. What effect might it have on Simon?
None, apparently.
“Right now, the most helpful thing you can do is man the phones. Try to maintain your professionalism. I’ll be putting it to the test periodically.”
“You mean…?” The dreaded remote control?
“Yes.”
“What if I can’t stop myself from—?”
“Coming? If you have so little control, fine. This is still your training period, after all. But I’ll be disappointed. I might have to change my plans for later on. The choice is yours.”
So that’s the way he was going to play it. Dangle his dongle in front of me as a prize if I made it through the day without coming.
Well, I’d show him. Even though inside I was boiling like a red-hot kettle, that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep it together. Hell, I was a professional.
Chapter Six
I suppose you might wonder why I didn’t just get those things the hell out of me and walk out the door. It’s not like I was chained there. It’s not like the job was that important. I could always go back to Chuck E. Cheese.
But the thought of leaving never crossed my mind. Oh, no. That would mean no Simon, no mind-blowing release. I wasn’t going anywhere. Except to the loony bin. If they gave out Oscars for keeping yourself from coming despite being aroused to the point of madness, I would have won. If they gave out Purple Hearts for keeping from coming while being mercilessly teased, I would have gotten one. Even though the balls were inside me and the beads only touched my pussy, every part of me throbbed and swelled. My nipples had been rock-hard ever since Simon spanked me on his lap. As the afternoon went on, my lips swelled, the skin everywhere on my body grew warm. I felt like one giant, wet, open pussy.
I don’t know what that day’s callers thought of me. There was no way I could keep the arousal out of my voice. It drenched every part of me, including my vocal chords. “Hello,” I would purr longingly into the phone. “Cowell and Dirk, may I help you?” Every time, help sounded more like lick you silly. Sometimes I would say, “May I connect you?” Connect sounded like something extremely naughty and inappropriate.
I knew the callers thought something was odd, because I got a lot of throat clearing and “ums” before they’d say why they were calling. But my behavior was completely professional. All the correct words came out of my mouth. Just because I sounded like an oversexed, horny porn star didn’t mean I wasn’t doing my job. I made sure there was nothing Simon could hold against me. Every time the throbbing inside became too much, and I felt an orgasm knocking on the door, I clamped down on it. Not now, not now. I pictured the steep rise in Simon’s pants, the way his strong thighs felt under my chest, the way his hand cruised around my ass. Most of all, I pictured how his eyes would look as he rammed his erection into me. Sometimes, in my fevered imagination, he jammed it down my throat. Sometimes in my hot, begging sex. Sometimes…well, wherever he wanted. I was ready to receive him, whenever, wherever he wanted.
I was, after all, the receptionist.
That’s when the true meaning of the word sank in. Receiving Simon. Receiving Simon’s orders. Filling his needs. Filling myself with his demands. Receiving pleasure. It was all one. Receiving Simon meant receiving pleasure. There was no difference.
Right before the end of the day, when I thought I was home free, one last call came in.
“Good afternoon, this is Ethan Cowell. With whom am I speaking?”
Through my haze of arousal, the words slowly sank in. My other boss was on the phone! I sat straight up, and winced as the balls shifted inside me. It was a struggle to control my voice. “This is Dana Arthur, the new receptionist. Would you like me to put you through to Mr. Dirk?”
“Not just yet. Tell me a little about yourself first.” He had a British accent and sounded a little like the headmaster at Hogwarts.
“Well, um, there’s not too much to tell. I grew up here on Long Island, just graduated from community college. I’ve been working here about a week.” God, had it been only a week?
“How’s the training period progressing?” There was something in his voice that made me sit even straighter, which, of course, set off a new explosion inside me. How much did he know?
“Just fine, thank you,” was my cautious answer.
“I think you underestimate yourself. I’ve been receiving glowing reports from young Simon.”
My face turned red-hot. They’d talked about me? Discussed my progress? Not too mortifying! On the other hand, I felt flattered. Two successful businessmen had actually had a conversation focused on me—nobody, slacker, homegirl Dana.
“I’ve been trying my best, sir.”
“Call me Ethan. No one can ask for anything more. He says you’re a quick learner. Very responsive.”
“Really?” I said in a strangled voice.
“Deliciously so. In fact, I believe he’s more than a little bit in love with you.”
Now that was a world-shaking piece of news. Simon Dirk, master of my universe, in love with me? It was almost too stunning to take in. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’m just a kid from Long Island. He’s a…”
“A what?”
<
br /> A god, I wanted to say. A rock star. Master of all he surveyed. “Out of my league,” I ended up with.
“Brilliant American phrase, that. But you must put it out of your mind. Let me tell you something about young Simon. He was born in the gutter, his mum was a prostitute, never knew his father. Everything he is today, he made himself. Anyone can do it. Even a kid from Long Island.”
Simon…born in the gutter? Mother a prostitute? My mind reeled. But it made a kind of sense. No wonder he was so loyal to Ethan.
“At any rate, I look forward to meeting you. We’ll spend some time together, the three of us. Simon’s looking forward to showing off his new protégé…”
At that moment I heard a click and Simon’s voice came on the line. “Dana has work to do, Ethan.”
Long pause. I held my breath. After what seemed like forever, Ethan said, “Is that so? In that case, I’ll see you both when I get back. Cheers.” He hung up.
I jumped from the desk and, gritting my teeth from the motion of the dancing balls, ran into Simon’s office. “Showing off your protégé? What’s going on here?”
He rose to his feet in a smooth motion like a cobra. “What is this? A rebellion?”
“It’s a simple question!”
“A question implies doubt. Do you doubt me?”
I blinked. The setting sun hung low over the downtown office buildings, and the pink and orange rays of the sunset pulsed behind him. It looked like there was a halo around him. Did I say he was a god? Now he looked like an angel stepping down from a sunbeam. Lost in his beauty, I barely realized how close he was until he was practically on top of me.
“No!” The word came out as a shout.
“Good.” A tender smile. Oh, the sneaky sonofabitch. How did he manage to make me weak in the knees with nothing but a quirk of his lips? He narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down. Even his glance brought a new wave of heat sweeping over me. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?”
I bit my lip. He was getting dangerously close to seeing inside my heart, and that scared the crap out of me.
“You aren’t afraid of my needs. You aren’t afraid of doing what it takes to please me. You aren’t afraid of your own pleasure. Are you?”