Torn Between Two Lovers Part Two
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Kay arrived back at the office just before two o’clock, flustered – despite her underlying contentment – at not having been able to get a cab. She’d walked part of the way and her feet hurt. Also, her cunt and tits were sore from the whipping.
Greg, the young accountant – or accounts assistant, to be more accurate – was at his desk.
“Mr Hall’s looking for you,” he said, in the tone of a petulant schoolboy. “He wants to know where his typing is.”
“Shit,” Kay muttered under her breath.
“What was that?” said Greg.
“Nothing.” She glared straight into his eyes, nastily. “What did you tell him?”
“That I hadn’t seen you since before twelve, of course.”
“Oh, thanks!”
She was just settling herself at her desk when Mr Hall – her boss – made an appearance.
“A word with you in my office, Miss Jones.”
“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled, and followed him, ignoring Greg’s gleeful grin.
Mr Hall closed the office door and took a seat behind his large, forbidding desk. Kay’s boss was an imposing man in his forties, always in an impeccable suit, his slightly greying hair adding authority to a polished business air and the layers of false charm that fooled his customers so well.
He was tapping the tips of his fingers together like a school teacher.
“Long lunch, Miss Jones?”
“I’m really sorry, Sir, I had a call from an old friend. I didn’t know that job of yours was urgent – I’ll get to it straight away. It won’t take me long.”
“I’m afraid you won’t, Miss Jones. I’m afraid you’ll be finishing it off this evening, after everyone has gone home. You see, I need you in here this afternoon for a meeting.”
Kay’s spirits sunk at the thought of working late.
“Yes, Mr Hall,” she said, keeping her voice level.
“And I shall be asking Greg to join us. Carol’s gone home, and I’ve left the answer-phone on, so we shouldn’t be disturbed.”
She carried on standing opposite his desk; he hadn’t invited her to sit down.
“But first, my dear,” the well-spoken voice continued, “I think I need to teach you a little lesson about long lunch hours. That is, why you shouldn’t take them.” He leaned forward. “Turn around.”
“Mr Hall, please!”
“Then bend over and touch your toes.”
“Dennis! Does it have to be now?”
“Yes.”
She suppressed a huge sigh. She felt like she was only just getting her breath back from having been whipped and fucked by Brian, and here she was, straight from out of the clutches of one Master into those of another!
Only she couldn’t tell him – couldn’t explain that she had just allowed herself to be beaten by someone else – because Dennis was so possessive of her in that way. He liked to do all the beating himself – or at least witness it – and it hurt his feelings if he thought she’d been getting punishment elsewhere.
Kay had known Dennis a long time. Several years, in fact – since he had given her a job straight out of college. They’d had a little fling, and he had introduced her to certain adventurous practices. Then she had discovered he had a wife he didn’t love and two children he adored, and had distanced herself from him.
They still had an arrangement, though. He gave her a well paid job – and there was no doubt that it was a real, busy one, not a soft option – and she allowed him to continue to indulge some of his sexual inclinations with her.
Now with some other woman, this might have been exploitation, but Kay was different. She knew she didn’t have to stay, but then, being a particularly intelligent and independent 24 year old, she also knew herself very well.
She liked the job, and she liked Dennis Hall, and she liked the sort of things they did together. Her working life suited her perfectly well – so she turned round like a good girl, and bent over to touch her toes, knowing very well what would happen next, because it had happened so many times before.
Dennis strolled around his desk to have a closer look at Kay’s knickerless bum. On his way, he picked a long cane up from where he kept it – hidden behind some books on a shelf.
Kay felt the cane touch her thighs, then slide up over her behind, pushing the bottom of her skirt up a little further.
Dennis suddenly crouched down right behind her, inspecting her close up. She didn’t think the rubber whip had left any noticeable marks – perhaps just a general redness which could be attributed to heat or arousal. Whatever he saw, though, he made no comment. It could’ve been that he suspected that she’d been up to something during her long absence from the office, but preferred not to know.
He touched her gently, running the backs of his fingers along the overhang of her buttocks – that most sensitive place.
“This is where I’m going to cane you,” he said. “To make sure that it really hurts.”
Even though she had come relatively recently, this statement from her cruel boss sent little twinges of arousal to her pussy. There was no doubting her masochistic urges!
Dennis pushed her legs a little wider apart, so he could see her tits hanging down – her top had fallen away from them when she bent over – through her thighs. He pulled on the fat orbs for a bit, manoeuvring them into a more visible position, then stood up again.
“Do you accept your punishment, Miss Jones?”
“Yes, Mr Hall.”
“Are you sorry for having taken a long lunch break?”
No way, she thought, but nevertheless responded dutifully, “Yes, Mr Hall.”
“Just ten, I think,” her employer informed her. “And remember to say thank you after each one.”
He caned with great accuracy – each stroke falling in the sensitive overhang of her buttocks as promised – and moderate force. He waited between strokes, giving her time to regain position and anticipate the next blow – always wondering if it would be a harder one. He knew exactly what strength of stroke would make her only gasp, what strength would cause her to scream involuntarily, and what strength would knock her onto the floor in squirming agony. And he knew pretty well how long the marks he was now inflicting on her smooth skin would last – several days.
He was an expert.
“Thank you, Master,” Kay said for the last time, truly grateful that the caning hadn’t been as hard as she knew it might have been.
She stayed in position – legs straight and open, arms reaching down, tits bulging through between her thighs – while her boss lectured her.
“You should know by now that I expect discipline in my office. If you’d asked me first whether you could take a longer break, it might have been different. As it was, I was furious to find my typing hadn’t been done and you’d disappeared.” He was pacing up and down behind her. “If it happens again it’ll be twenty strokes, and I’ll keep you here, working, til ten at night!”
Eventually, Dennis allowed his secretary to stand up.
He instructed her to hoist her skirt right up at the back – so he could see the nice reddened state he had got her bottom into – and to take her top off, so her tits were easily visible and accessible. Then she had to place her feet apart, put her hands behind her neck, and stick her tongue out as far as it would go. Only then did Dennis take his cock out and begin to stroke it.
“I’ve been lenient over the summer,” he informed Kay, “but as of tomorrow, I want you in stockings again. Don’t forget!”
She shook her head.
“Usually black, occasionally white, and with a varying selection of gaudily coloured knickers.”
Oh dear, Kay thought. One Master wants me with knickers on, the other with them off. There was going to be a lot of hurried slipping on and off of underwear!
“Also from now on, you are going to come into this office just before nine o’clock every morning, and polish the seat of my chair with your tits. In fact, you can do it now, while I watch to see if you’re making sufficient effort and doing it properly. Over there, quickly! And in silence.”
With her hands still up behind her neck and with her tongue still out, Kay hurried round to the far side of her boss’s desk and dropped to her knees in front of his big black leather upholstered chair.
Tentatively, she leaned forward and rubbed her naked breasts over the edge of the leather. This was a new task and she wasn’t sure yet how difficult it would be. She had polished boots before with her tits – literally polished, with black shoe shine smeared all over them – but not chairs.
She wondered if she was allowed to use her hands to help, but didn’t dare ask. The cane was lying on the edge of the desk, and she didn’t feel like getting any more of it at that moment!
“Rub harder!” Dennis barked at her, and she rubbed harder, watching her nipples stand up in response to the friction.
“Right up to the back, come on. Get up if you have to.”
The humiliation of being watched while she struggled and strived to get at every bit of that seat with her tits was awful. She was forced to crouch in ungainly positions, and wriggle around ludicrously – all without using her hands, even to help keep her balance.
“Every morning,” Dennis repeated. “Before I get in. Nice and hard, for about ten minutes.” His erection was raging now, from having watched her half-clothed antics from behind. “So that when I sit down to begin the day’s work, I know my chair’s been properly prepared by your submissive tits.”
Kay couldn’t help it, she was dreadfully aroused again. She liked the idea of her tits being submissive. Yes, using parts of her body to do what a duster would normally do to a piece of soft leather which would spend the day cushioning her boss’s arse – this suited her character.
“Now, climb up onto the desk and get back into position – legs nice and wide.”
As Kay set about obeying this new command – again rightly assuming that she wasn’t to use her hands to help – Dennis picked up the phone.
“Greg, you can join us now.”
Kay grimaced, and Dennis saw it.
“What’s wrong, my dear? Don’t you like our little friend? He has his uses, wouldn’t you say?”
But before Kay could decide whether or not to reply, the ever-grinning trainee accountant had appeared in the room. He stood looking up at the sight Kay made, standing topless on the table with her legs wide and her tongue out, and actually rubbed his hands together.
“Lock the door,” Dennis told him in a quiet, familiar tone, and himself crossed to the window to draw the blinds. It was blackened glass, and hence unnecessary, but he preferred an intimate feel.
“Right.” He sat down in the leather chair Kay had just polished so novelly. “I’ve got a pile of correspondence to get through here, so prepare yourself to take notes. On all fours, please along the length of the table – knees as wide apart as you can get.”
She dropped into position, very aware of her upthrust, welt covered bottom, and her heavy, drooping tits.
“Here’s a pad and pencil.” Dennis slid the equipment in front of her. “Make sure you concentrate and get every word.”
Kay’s shorthand was very good, and it had to be said that she was used to taking it in some rather unusual positions.
She looked askance at Greg, however, who was sidling up to the desk, and wondered quite what role he was going to play.
“You may spank her, Greg,” Dennis elucidated. “For as long as you like.”
The young man’s face lit up, and immediately his hands were all over her, squeezing her bum, exploring between her legs, moving up to grab at her swinging breasts. She tried to keep still while he pawed her, but couldn’t help struggling a little at his rather rough onslaught.
Then he spanked her hard, and she yelped, only to be immediately admonished by her boss. She wasn’t to complain. She was to keep as still as possible in her all fours position on top of the desk, and take whatever punishment was meted out to her without a sound.
Greg yanked her skirt right up out of the way, and proceeded to spank her just about as hard as he could, on alternate buttocks. She glanced at Dennis, appealing mutely for him to exert some control over the force of Greg’s blows, but he wouldn’t even meet her eye. He was watching what Greg was doing, and caressing himself gently under the table.
“Dear Sir,” he said after a while. “I refer to your letter of last week, in which – problem, Miss Jones?”
Struggling to conquer the pain Greg’s heavy hand was inflicting on her freshly caned bottom, Kay remembered she was supposed to be working at the same time, and picked up her pencil quickly.
“I refer to your letter of last week – “ SPANK! “ – in which you asked me to look into – “ SPANK! “ – the Dobson matter. I have reviewed our files – “ SPANK! “ – and found nothing which I feel – “ SPANK! “ – would be of any assistance to you. New paragraph.” SPANK! “I have referred your case to a colleague – “ SPANK! “ – and will be in touch with you again shortly – “ SPANK! “ – with a recommendation. Yours, etc.”
Kay scribbled fast while Greg laid into her with increasing force. The blows were now so heavy that they were causing her to slide forwards over the polished desk. A couple more heavy ones and she would topple over the end!
“Dear Mr Thompson.” At this point Dennis got up and walked around to the side of the desk, waiting for the blows to slide his secretary along the table top into a perfect position for sucking his cock. “Thank you – “ SPANK! “ – for your recent letter.” SPANK! “Miss Jones, why isn’t your tongue out, like it was told to be?!”
She stuck her tongue out quickly, and a particularly hard blow from behind brought it firmly into contact with the tip of Dennis’s rock hard penis.
“Move it around,” she was told, and obediently flicked her tongue over the pink, dribbling end of the shaft in front of her. Another sweeping blow on her behind, and she had been spanked right onto it, her lips parted forcefully by the length of the cock pushing into her mouth.
“Now I expect you to suck me, using all your skill, but continuing to take down dictation, like the obedient assistant that you are. And for every mistake that I find later, you will receive not one, but two strokes of that cane – on your tits this time. You’re an accomplished secretary, I know, and also a competent sex slave, so there’s absolutely no reason I can see why you shouldn’t be able to suck cock, get spanked, and take dictation all at the same time.”
And it was true; she could manage it, though it wasn’t easy.
Greg’s attentions were becoming more sexual. He was rubbing her slit and pulling her rear end closer to the edge of the table so he could rub his newly released cock against her thigh. He was making little whimpering noises as his arousal grew, and even jumping up and down a little with a mixture of excitement and impatience. He ran his hands over her back, watching wide-eyed her greedy sucking of Dennis’s prick.
“I want to get at her tits, boss,” he whined.
So Kay was pushed over onto her back – her head hanging backwards over the edge of the table from where she could pay attention to the underside of Dennis’s private parts, and with Greg virtually climbing onto the table in his eagerness to suck at her tits.
Yet, still, Kay had to keep taking notes – her hands holding pad and pencil up in the air, her head bobbing to catch glimpses of what she was writing.
At last, though, Dennis tired of the game. By this time he was dictating rubbish anyway.
“Do you want to fuck her, Greg?” he asked his slobbering assistant.
“Oo, yes please, boss.”
“Climb on then.”
It was a good thing it was a sturdy desk. A few pens and paper clips went flying as Greg scrambled on top of Kay. With little preamble his long cock pushed its way into her and began to pound away rhythmically. Dennis let Kay have a break from her sucking, propping her head up on his stomach, playing with her tits, and watching as Greg thumped away with youthful vigour.
“Play with yourself as he fucks you, Miss Jones,” he instructed, and Kay slipped a hand down to her clit for a good rub.
Rather to her surprise, she came almost immediately. The caning, spanking and general sexual attention had obviously had their effect.
“Push!” she called out. “Come on, push deeper inside me!”
Greg thrust his cock in as deep as it would go, and came with a half shout, as he felt Kay’s contractions on his shaft.
“Well done, staff,” Dennis chuckled. “Managing it together like that!” Then he grabbed hard at Kay’s hair. “Come on, you slut. It’s my turn now.”
Greg rolled off and collapsed into a chair, while Dennis yanked Kay into the position he wanted her in – feet on the floor, leaning forward over his desk.
“This is the way I like my secretaries,” he said as he dived into her dripping hole.
He fantasised out loud as he fucked her.
“When I’ve got the time and the money, I’ll build a high-tech office like you’ve never seen before. The word processor will be connected electronically to a dildo up your cunt. If you type at a suitably high speed it’ll be activated to stimulate you. But every time you make an error it will automatically give you an unpleasant little electric shock. What a way to eliminate typos, eh? Mind you, the same effect could be achieved by having someone stand behind you with a whip, so I suppose it doesn’t have to be high-tech. Except that it means you could be left on your own, at the mercy of a machine!”
He pictured Kay sitting on a dildo stool, wired to her PC, and periodically going ‘ouch’ when she made a mistake. Then he extended the image to a roomful of typing students – naked of course – at a secretarial college, and shot his load with a massive thrust and a gasp.
Then he also backed into a seat, and the two men sat and watched their mingled spunk running down Kay’s thighs as she stayed in position, lying forward over the desk.
Kay felt drained but elated. What a way to spend an afternoon at work! She loved the eroticism of being sexual in unusual places. No doubt she was far from the first woman to be fucked over an office desk, but how many, she wondered, had been caned and spanked and fucked by two – no, three - men on that particular afternoon. Not many, she reckoned – but then you never knew. All sorts of things probably went on behind closed doors and darkened windows in a city like this.
After a few minutes of silence, she made to get up from her submissive position, but was promptly snapped at.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
She dropped down again, resigned.
“Don’t think we’ve finished with you yet, young lady. I told you I had a lot of paperwork to get through, and we’ve hardly started. Now pick up that pencil, Miss Jones, and get writing!
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