by Jamie Knight
I pull the other breast up and out of her bra, push them together, and run my tongue over her sensitive nipples. Moans escape her lip and her head tilts back like she is going to faint. Hips thrust into my chest. I can’t help myself; I drop one of my hands down, slide it up her skirt to feel the dampness of her panties. Maybe I shouldn’t have let her put her panties back on.
Pushing the damp silk aside, I slip a finger into her pussy. Hot and tight, she is close to coming again, but I want to hold her back. I need her to want me as much as I want to play with her. So, I suck each of her nipples one last time, before saying, “Until I say differently, you won’t wear panties to work. Understood?”
As I pull myself up and take my hands off her, she opens her eyes and frowns at me. “Are you serious?” She doesn’t quite understand what is happening yet.
I smile at her, taking a lock of her hair and twisting it around my fingers. “Totally serious. I can be fun if you do what I say. If not, I can be very not fun. The only choice you have in the matter, pet, is which way you want me to be.” She opens her mouth to say something, but I stop her words by placing one of my fingers on her pink lips. “Think about it,” I whisper, starting to button up her blouse. “Now, let’s get you back to your desk.”
A slight frown on her pretty face, she turns and walks towards the elevator. I follow, not saying a word, and taking in each of her movements from the sway of her little hips to the slight bounce of her breasts. She’s perfect, and I’m going to have so much fun breaking her in.
Chapter Three - Christian
We don’t speak in the elevator. It’s like my wild girl is trying to pretend that I’m not there. I lean against the back wall, crossing my legs and arms, but she stands near the door and the buttons — her back straight as an arrow. I don’t hide the fact that I’m staring at her butt. I know she can tell. Her breath is still erratic. Occasionally, she pants a little or mumbles cusswords to herself.
We are only alone on the ride from the basement to the first floor. After the lobby level, various people file in and out. Some say hi to my pet, but none to me. A few eye me cautiously. I ignore them. I could care less about most of the people here. I know I don’t fit in. I didn’t come here or merge with McKenzie Tech to make friends. I don’t need friends. I came here to expand my fortunes.
The elevator reaches the fifth floor, and the doors open with a ding. My pet takes off as quickly as her short — but shapely — legs will carry her. I love the way her stiletto heels click on the tan tiles of the walkway. It’s like the musical sound of her anxiety — a rapid tap, trying to escape when she is already caught.
She doesn’t look back at me, as if she can pretend that I’m not right at her back, still watching her hips sway. I could reach out and grab her again. Part of me wants to but keeping our new relationship a secret will be more fun. Secrets are the best parts of my life. I keep so many.
When the accounting department opens before us, with all its boring gray cubicles with their low walls and the incessant tapping of keyboards, I let her move away from me. Noting the cubical she flees into; I turn slightly and follow the hall to the CFA’s office. The walls are painted a happy green color here, and there are far too many windows. I know Kane wants this to be a nice place to work, but the higher floors make me miss the dark coolness of my basement.
To set my plan for my new pet into motion, I need to talk to her manager. Luckily, I know the head of accounting well — almost too well.
The door to her office is open. My little sister, Sloane, is sitting behind her desk typing furiously into her computer like it will put out a fire. Something must be going very badly in accounting. I don’t really care. I lean against her doorframe and cross my arms over my chest. It takes her a few minutes to look up at me, and when she does, her long face drops into a frown.
“What is it, Chris?” she snaps, immediately looking back at her computer.
I flinch at her use of the shortened version of my name. I hate that. I’m Christian, not Chris, never Chris. It puts me on edge when people call me that. Sloane knows this, and she does it on purpose. We are not exactly friendly siblings and she sure as shit was not happy when I agreed to join with McKenzie Tech. Usually, we try to avoid each other.
Sloane continues her furious typing. She’s barely paying attention to me. That’s fine, perfect in fact, that means that my request will be even less noticed or scrutinized.
“You have a really short girl in your accounting department…” I start.
“Amanda Burmmell. Mandy.” Sloane glances at me again. “Why? What did she do?”
Way to be negative, Sis, I think. Sloane tends to not get along with people. She’s probably the boss that people hate the most.
I fake a stretch to show nonchalance. I don’t want Sloane to think this is some kind of big deal. “Honestly, I’m interested in her height and little hands.”
“What?!” My sister’s eyes roam over my face like she’s trying to decipher me. She will have no luck with that. I don’t show people my true emotions or thoughts, with good reason. Over the years, I have schooled myself on keeping my body language very casual. Even when I’m upset, I never look it.
I grin at her and settle myself into the chair in front of her desk. The wooden surface is covered with knickknacks, mostly gold, mostly expensive, and a few photos — also in gold frames. She probably wants the place to look classy. I think it looks gaudy. Grabbing one of the frames, I glance at a picture of our whole family. It was from a reunion a few years back, all fifty or so Keeleys are present and smiling their best haughty smiles. Except for me. I’m in the back glowering. I hated that I had to go to that thing, but I love that I ruined the pictures. Sighing, I set the frame back on my sister’s desk.
She reaches out to straighten it, setting her mouth in a line and glaring at me. “What do you want, brother?” The last word of her question comes out snide. She hates that we are related. The feeling is mutual.
“I’m setting up my computers and network this week in the annex. There is a crawl space the cables need to go into. A small crawl space. I want to borrow your employee. I saw her in the elevator today, and a small girl like that will make the process go faster. Which should make Kane and Ashton happy since I will be able to get to work quicker as well.”
Kane and Ashton are the CEOs of McKenzie Tech. Kane is dying for my team and me to get started on a new type of tablet. He wants to break into the Apple game and bring the technology back to McKenzie Tech. That’s why I’m here and earning a ton of money. Not that I really needed it. My family is seriously rich, but I feel it is important to make my own money. To prove I can. Sloane is the same way.
My sister frowns at me. She brings her hands off the computer keyboard and folds them over her desk. “Can’t one of your guys do it?” she whines.
My guys are still hard at work in my old building. Since I just found a new pet, I plan to keep them that way for a week or two or until I got bored with her — Mandy.
I lean forward and take a nice black pen out of Sloane’s golden pen holder. Her frown turns into a snarl. This is a habit I always do when I ask her for something. It’s a subliminal reminder that I can take anything that is hers.
I have programmed Sloane over the years by repeating this gesture — taking a pen, or a thumbtack, or a piece of food off her plate — something small enough that she doesn’t get too mad, but still triggers the training I have instilled in her. Now she will say yes to whatever I ask.
“Fine, Chris,” she snaps and turns away before she sees me smile.
I hook her pen into the neck of my t-shirt. There is no way I am giving it back. I stand and wander casually towards the door to her office, taking my time, and not saying goodbye. Not that it matters, Sloane is already staring back at her computer.
“Buy some suits,” she snaps as I pass through the threshold. “You look like a bum!”
I ignore her outbursts, put my thumbs into my jeans pockets, and stro
ll down the hallway towards the elevator.
I don’t need to, but I pass Mandy’s cubical anyway. She’s sitting, trying to act calm and staring into the screen of her computer. In her mind, I bet she’s praying that seeing me wouldn’t affect her in any way, but I can see the slight tremble in her breasts. Her soft, perky breasts. They are all mine now, and I can’t wait to get my hands on them again.
On the edge of Mandy’s desk is a pink cup filled with lollypops of different colors. The sight pleases me immensely. She likes sucking on things. That is great because I like to be sucked. Hard.
I stop and lean into the wall of her cubical. Mandy doesn’t say anything. She just eyes me with fear and lust in her eyes. I bet her panties are damp again. I reach over and pluck a green sucker from her cup. She doesn’t stop me. She doesn’t say a thing, but her breathing speeds up. Slowly, I open the wrapper and lick the lollypop with my tongue extended out as far as it can go. Just like I had it minutes ago when it was in her pussy.
Mandy shutters. A gasp escapes her parted lips. Feeling infinitely pleased, I suck the lollypop into my mouth and smile at her around the stick. She shutters again as if she is going to cum by just remembering what I did to her. I hope she will. I hope she replays our encounter this morning in her head over and over while she is using her vibrator tonight. That thought makes me smile.
I set off towards the elevator leaving my new pet feeling flushed and frustrated. That means that tomorrow she is going to be even dirtier for me. I have plans to make and toys to buy.
Chapter Four - Mandy
The elevator doors close on the hot stranger with a hush. Once he is gone, it’s like all the tension in my body suddenly leaves, and I have to try to not slink down to the floor in relief. Instead, I roll my chair forward, fold my arms onto my desk and let my head drop down on top of them.
That experience in the basement was the hottest and most fucked up thing I have ever done. Even the slightest remembrance of the stranger’s hands on my body makes me feel flushed. My pussy is beginning to ache for release again. I want to get myself off, but now I have nowhere to go. That thought alone darkens my mood. How am I going to get through my boring workday without my special basement time?
Fuck.
I take a few breaths to calm myself and try to get my mind back on work. There is a big accounting presentation due at the end of the week, and while Aston and Kane are good guys —good bosses — they still expect the highest from their employees. I need to do my part to make sure the report is everything they want.
Ping.
Ugh.
Slowly I lift my head and stare at my computer screen. I have a new email. One from Sloane, McKenzie Tech’s latest CFA and my newest manager. Sloane has been a friend of mine, on and off, but since she got her new position, she’s been a little too serious.
The email has the same short line in the subject and in the body: come to my office. Since the mysterious man was just in there moments ago, this cannot be good. My stomach tightens in knots. Did he tell her what happened? Am I about to be fired? Fuck!
I twist my chair to the far side of my cubical, legs swinging, and pull myself up. Going to Sloane’s office seems like the worst thing in the world right now. All I want to do is go home or wake up because this whole day feels like a weird dream.
The short stretch of green carpet between my cubical and the manager’s office seems to get longer with every step I take. I don’t want to do this, and everything in my body is telling me to run. My breath comes in pants. I swear the walls and their banks of windows, which usually seem so bright and friendly, suddenly seem ominous and tall.
Fuck, I have to be stronger than this. Sure, I made a stupid mistake letting that man play with me, but there is no reason for me to not hold my head high. So, I’m a sexual woman, so what? I nod to myself and then run my fingers through my hair a bit to make sure I still look professional.
Sloane’s door is open. When I glance in, she is hunched over her desk, typing furiously. Her long face is pulled between the tight bun on her head and a deep frown. She is usually primly put together. Sloane comes from an old-money family. She likes to remind everyone of that fact with her clothing and strict attention to grooming. I’ve never seen the woman with a hair out of place. Even her “messy updos” have every strand exact. She doesn’t look up when I lean against her door, so I knock.
“Take a seat. I’ll be with you in a second.”
Slowly, I wander in and look at the chair placed in front of her desk. It’s a bit low. Which means I will have to look up at her. Not that I don’t have to usually. Before I can sit down, Sloane waves a finger at the door. “Shut it.”
I shuffle back over, putting both hands on the door and shutting it gently. For some reason, I don’t want the whole floor to know that I’m here. Although they probably already do. Anytime anyone approaches Sloane’s office, it’s all over watercooler in seconds. With the door closed, I walk back over and slip into the low chair. The edge of Sloane’s desk is even with my shoulders. I probably look like a child who is waiting to talk to the principal. But such is my life.
A few minutes slip by as Sloane continues to type furiously. My dread is replaced with curiosity. What is going on? She seems to have totally forgotten that I am there. I shift in my seat, trying to find an angle where I can see her computer screen, but there isn’t one. She probably arranged the office that way. After all, financial stuff is too important to be leaked to some outside source.
With a big sigh, Sloane taps a few more keys on her keyboard hard. She clicks to send what now is obviously an email and then swings her chair around to face me. Folding her hands on her desk, the smile she tries to put across her face falters as she sees how low I am to the ground. The sides of her lips twitch. I can tell she is trying to hold it back, but then she erupts into giggles.
I shift in my seat again feeling awkward. “What?”
“Do you want a booster seat?” She leans back in her chair, letting the laughter take over.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Ha. Ha. I’m glad my small size amuses you, Sloane. Seriously, I thought you were done with that mean girl shit.”
She waves a hand and then puts her other hand on her belly. “You’re right! You’re right, that wasn’t nice.” She snorts a little, getting the last of her laughing fit over. “Okay. I’m sorry. But truly, Mandy, your size is why you are here.”
“What?”
“I have a temporary assignment for you. It’s only a part-time thing really. When you’re not down in the basement, then you will be back up here doing your usual work.”
I sit forward and as tall as I can. “In the basement?!” I can feel that my eyebrows are raised as far up on my forehead as they can go.
Sloane rubs her nose gently, able to avoid smearing her lipstick. “Yes, the basement. Mr. Keeley, McKenzie Tech’s newest partner, has requested your help.”
Keeley? Where have I heard that last name before? Isn’t it…
I search Sloane’s desk for her set of business cards. She has some in a holder shaped like a golden fan, so clients can take them. There in little black ink is her name: Sloane Keeley, CFA.
“Mr. Keeley?” I ask. “Keeley?”
My manager slumps in her chair and lets out a sigh. At that moment, she is less of the stern woman I am used to and more like the friend who has hung out with my little group of girlfriends on occasion. She casually rubs her neck and shoulders. “Mr. Keeley is my big brother. Christian. He was just in here. The jerk who thinks he can wear jeans and a t-shirt to the office?”
Oh shit! I just messed around with Sloane’s big brother. Fuck.
I nod my head, not knowing what else to say.
“So Christian wants to borrow you to help him lay cables in the basement. He’s the new inventor for us. He actually is a genius, and I know that having him here is going to bring in big bucks, but he can be, well…a little demanding. He saw your small size and thinks you can get through the
cable ducts better than one of his own guys. It will just be a few days. Please, Mandy?”
Please? I don’t think I have ever heard Sloane say please. This must be very uncomfortable for her. Her eyes widen a bit, as I stay quiet.
“I just don’t want him to go complain to Kane, and trust me, Christian likes to get his way. Really, just a few days. I’ll even wave the dress code for you, so you don’t have to get your nice clothes dirty.” She reaches up and rubs her forehead. Her eyes look tired, strained.
I don’t know what to say, and after a few moments, I realize that my mouth is hanging open. I shut my lips. Then open them immediately. “He’s your brother?! Are you sure?”
Sloane’s eyes widen as she stares at me. Her mouth is pulled into a line. Slowly, she nods her head in an exaggerated fashion. “That is the impression that our parents seem to be under.”
I know I am being dumb, but my brain just cannot wrap itself around that fact. Sloane is so prim, Christian was so…well, messy. His well-fitting t-shirt was wrinkled. His beard needed to be shaved. His tight jeans needed to be pulled down to his ankles and his cock sucked on…wait… why was I thinking about this?
“Mandy?” Sloane is staring at me. I know I’m blushing.
Sinking back into the chair, I stare up at the ceiling. I cannot be alone with Christian Keeley again. That is without question. He is too hot to resist and way too good with his tongue. There has to be a way to get out of this.
“To be honest, I don’t really feel comfortable with this assignment,” I start.
Sloane blows out her breath. Her eyes close tight while she rubs her forehead again. The stress she is feeling is written all over her face. I hate that I am adding to it, but I don’t trust myself around Mr. Keeley and knowing that he is her brother makes it even worse. I doubt Sloane would ever forgive me.
She blinks her eyes open again, catching me in a glare. It’s not mean, it’s desperate. “Please? You don’t know the kind of trouble he can cause.”