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So, it appeared that Ronen and I had an “arrangement”. Everything had happened so quickly, it was difficult for me to wrap my mind around it. How had things progressed so fast?
The first night he took me, over his desk, had awakened in me a lust that I didn’t know I was capable of. I had written about a lot of sexual scenarios, based mostly on my own fertile imagination. And although I thought the stories were pretty good, and seemed to be popular, it turned out that the reality was very different.
When I was writing, I was the one in control. I decided who did what to whom, and how they reacted to it. I also decided when it was enough, and could, with a few stabs at the keyboard, bring everything to a stop at will. However, with Ronen, I had no control over anything.
The man had me by the balls, so to speak. Having discovered my very extensive collection of erotica on Harding’s old computer, he had, by implication, made it clear that my job was on the line. My job, and my reputation. I had always used a pseudonym when writing, the nature of the stories made that a necessity. But now, my cover was blown.
Ronen had all the information he needed to make my life very difficult. And I really had no defense, as I had been doing the writing on office equipment, and on company time. He could have fired me on the spot. But he didn’t. He chose another means of dealing with me, one that was quite unexpected.
I had become Ronen’s plaything. His toy. And he had some very specific ideas on how he wanted to play. After establishing our roles and the rules by which things would be done, it seemed I would keep my job after all, but at a price.
I had learned just how costly it would be the first time I broke one of his rules. He had decided that I was not to wear panties under my skirts anymore, and had told me so one evening after one of our “meetings”. No reasons were given, no explanation, he simply told me that from now on, I was not to wear them at the office. He liked my thigh high stockings, and said I could wear those, in fact, insisted I do, but panties were out. I was to go ‘commando” at all times while at work.
The very next day he called me into his office shortly after 9 am. This was unusual, as he usually wanted to see me after office hours. So, with some trepidation, I entered the office.
“Sir? You wanted to see me?” I asked.
“Come in Miss Ryan, and shut the door.” He sat behind the large desk, his back to me. I did as he directed, and took one of the seats in front of the desk, waiting to see what it was he wanted of me.
He suddenly swiveled in his seat and said sharply, “I didn’t tell you to sit down, Miss Ryan. That’s the trouble with you, you don’t know how to obey instructions.” My face must have looked a complete blank, as I had no idea what the man was going on about. He rose from his seat and walked around the desk to stand behind me.
“What are you wearing, Miss Ryan?” I stumbled for my words, still not sure just where this was leading.
“”Um, a skirt and blouse, sir.” It came out more of a question than a statement, but whatever it was, it was obviously the wrong answer. Ronen’s hand came down, hard and sharp, on the desk in front of me.
“No! What are you wearing under the skirt, Miss Ryan?” Then it came to me in a flash. I had been in a hurry to get to work, and had completely forgotten about what he had said about the panties.
“Oh, sir, I’m sorry. I was in a hurry this morning and completely forgot. Here, I’ll take them off right now.” Ronen put his hand up.
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Ryan. Come here.”
I walked over to where he stood, by his desk. He was sitting on the edge, his blue eyes fixed on me. When I got close to him, he reached a hand under my skirt, his fingers brushing the edge of my underwear. He slipped his fingers under the elastic and with a sharp yank, tore them off. I gasped as the elastic cut into my hip. Without a word he tossed them onto the floor.
He opened one of the desk drawers and took out a slim black rod. It was one of those telescoping things, like a pointer or something, looked like a car antenna. He strode over and stood behind me.
“Bend over the desk, Miss Ryan.” As I started to comply, he pushed me face down across the desk, my face resting on the blotter. His hand held me fast as he lifted my skirt up over my hips. I heard a light swish, and the rod landed across my ass with a crack.
Searing pain took my breath away, but I had no time to catch it as his hand rose and fell, again and again. He whipped me repeatedly over my ass and thighs, and I put my fist into my mouth to stifle my screams as continued without mercy.
Without thinking, my hand moved between my legs to touch my pussy, but he slapped it away. “No! I didn’t give you permission to play with yourself. Do you think I’m doing this for your pleasure, slut?” He whipped me again. “This is punishment, not play. You need to learn the difference.” The rod rose and fell several more times before he finally stopped.
My ass bostancı escort and thighs were on fire. Ronen snapped the rod shut and placed it back in the drawer. As I lay, gasping, across the desk, I felt hot tears begin to roll down my face. Ronen watched me for a moment, then his hand reached over and stroked my cheek. He traced the wet tears with his finger, then lightly stroked my lips.
“Taste your tears, Miss Ryan. And remember that when I give you an order, it is to be obeyed. No excuses. The next time, if there is a next time, I will not be so merciful.” He turned away from me, then said, almost as an afterthought, “Fix your clothes and your makeup and get back to work.”
I did as he told me, and left the office. The rest of the day went by in a foggy haze. My ass was so sore I could barely sit. After lunch, when I went into the ladies room, I looked at myself where he had hit me. Fiery red welts rose along my backside and thighs. On my God, I thought, how would I be able to explain these to my husband?
As it turned out, I didn’t have to. Bill called me later that afternoon to tell me he had to make an emergency trip to see his parents, as his father had taken ill and was in the hospital. I told him not to worry about me, not too rush back, to spend as much time as he needed. He was gone when I got home, much to my relief.
The welts faded after a few days, to the point where I could, if necessary, disguise them with makeup. But I never again forgot about the panties.
So then, this is how it was with Ronen. He ordered, I obeyed. There were times during our sessions that he seemed almost kind, when he would hold me after and kiss me tenderly, telling me I was a good girl. Then there were the other times.
He could be unspeakably cruel and cold. He enjoyed causing me pain, his blue eyes would grow hard and glitter with excitement as he would whip, or spank me. Sometimes he would grab hold of one of my nipples and squeeze, twist, until tears came to my eyes and I would beg him to stop. He would smile then and tell me that my tears gave him pleasure. And I knew he was telling the truth. His cock would become hard as wood as he would thrust it into my mouth, my pussy, my ass, whatever he was in the mood for that day.
In the meantime, I continued with my writing. Ronen had read all of the stories on Harding’s computer, and had told me that I was a pretty good writer. I knew he was enjoying them, as well as enjoying enacting some of them with me. But, as good as many of them were, there had always been a slight distance from my subject. Since I worked mainly on imagination, I didn’t always get it right. But that had begun to change.
For now I was writing from actual experience, not merely my active imagination. My agent had been surprised at the quality of the work I had been sending. “Damn, Carla,” he had said. “These are good! It’s almost like you were actually there.” I had smiled ruefully, if only he knew!
And, as things would turn out, my experience was only just beginning.
Once we established what was, for all intents and purposes, a master/slave relationship, Ronen decided to kick things up a notch. Our sessions had always taken place in his office, after hours. He’d let me know at some point during the day, discreetly, that I was needed. Not whether or not I was available, but that I was to be there. That I might refuse was unthinkable, the slave does not refuse the master’s order. I would make whatever arrangements necessary, and would stand before him in the office after everyone had gone home for the day. He would look me over, handle me, probe my most intimate parts with his fingers. My pussy was always wet, his fingers would glide slickly over me, sliding in and out of my cunt, over my clit, my asshole. All the while his eyes would be fixed on me with a quiet intensity that was both arousing and frightening. Sometimes I would be spanked almost playfully and fucked like a lover, at other times Ronen’s eyes would go cold, and I’d be whipped hard enough to raise welts across my backside, and he’d take me from behind, hard, in the ass. I never knew how things would happen until they happened.
So, on the day that things turned in a new direction, I was not expecting it. I entered his office, as requested, and waited for instruction. But Ronen was silent. He sat, going through some papers, did not even look up as I stood there. After a few moments, I decided to speak up.
“Sir? Is there something you want me to do?” He looked up, almost seemed surprised to see me there, then said,
“Miss Ryan, I’ll have need of you this weekend. You will be needed overnight, from Saturday into Sunday.” He gathered the papers up, placed them in a drawer, then stood. “I realize this is short notice, but I trust you will be able to make whatever arrangements needed.”
I nodded. Bill would be home for the kids, and it wouldn’t be too much of a problem to convince him I had to go for an overnight conference. “Yes Sir. Is there anything büyükçekmece escort else?” I waited.
He walked over to the door and opened it. “No Miss Ryan, we’re through here. Thank you, and I’ll get back to you with the specifics. Good night.” I left, bemused by his seeming indifference.
What did Ronen have in mind for the weekend, and why an overnighter? And where? Surely not here in his office. And why didn’t he touch me at all this time? He seemed distracted, his mind elsewhere. I felt a bit of relief that it wouldn’t be one of those times I’d be whipped, but part of me was disappointed not to feel his hands, his lips, his cock. Despite the pain he often caused me, he also had aroused me to an almost animal-like lust. I had never come so often, or so intensely, before. Being at Ronen’s mercy had been scary, but liberating. I didn’t have to accept responsibility for the things that happened in that office. I could convince myself that I had a job to protect, a reputation to guard. And, freed from responsibility, I was able to let myself go and enjoy the things he made me feel.
I learned nothing until Friday afternoon. Ronen stopped by my desk after lunch, and dropped an envelope in front of me. “These are your instructions, Miss Ryan. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And that was it.
After he left, I opened the envelope. It contained a single sheet of paper, with a list of instructions. I was to come dressed in skirt and blouse with buttons down the front. I was to wear a pair of black thigh highs and heels. My hair was to be worn loosely, and, in parenthesis was the notation that I could wear panties, with a smiley face next to it. At the bottom of the note was an address.
I recognized it as being in one of the wealthier sections of the city, lots of old brownstones. Some of the oldest monied families lived there, as well as numerous nouveau-rich who had been gradually taking the neighborhood over to the chagrin of the established residents. I idly wondered which camp Ronen was in.
I took a cab on Saturday, arriving at the appointed place at precisely 2 o’clock in the afternoon. I knew to be precise, when Ronen said 2 o’clock, he meant 2 o’clock, not 1:45 or 2:15. Whatever was going to happen today, I had no wish to begin things by pissing him off.
I was greeted at the door by an impressively dressed butler. After taking my coat, he lead me into a parlor and invited me to sit. After sitting there for what seemed like an eternity, I heard a door open and looked up.
A woman entered the room. She was absolutely gorgeous. Medium height, slender build, with short dark hair, she wore an outfit similar to mine. Skirt, blouse, heels. I wondered if she also wore thigh highs, as I did. She walked over and extended her hand to me.
“You must be Carla. I’m Simone, it’s a pleasure.” I took her hand and lightly shook it. She smiled, and continued.
“Mr. Ronen is expecting you. But I’m sure you know that.” She gestured for me to follow her. “Mr. Ronen has been looking forward to this evening, as have I.” Her face was turned away from me, so she didn’t see my surprised expression. What on earth was going on here?
I followed her down the hall, and up a large impressive staircase. At the top was a long hallway, with many doors leading to what I assumed were bedrooms or bathrooms. All were closed, save the door at the end of the hall, which was ajar. We went through that door.
It was a huge bedroom, and beautiful, like something out of Architectural Digest. I caught my breath as I took it in. My companion chuckled.
“Nice, isn’t it? Wait till you see the rest.” But she made no move to show me. Instead, she took a seat on a small chair by the window and waited.
We didn’t wait for long. Ronen entered the room, spoke to someone I didn’t see outside the door. “We’ll have dinner at 6.” then closed the door behind him. He stood there a moment, glancing at the woman by the window, then looking over at me.
“Very nice, Miss Ryan,” as he checked my apparel. “Very nice, indeed. Wouldn’t you agree, Simone?”
From her seat, Simone smiled. “Yes Micheal, she’s lovely.”
Micheal, that was his name. Funny, but during the past weeks I had never learned his first name. Here I’d been, fucking this guy in every way possible, and I never even knew his first name. I wondered about this Simone, and who she was. Was she his wife? If she was, she didn’t seem too upset at me.
Ronen leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. Then he placed both hands on either side of my face and kissed me more deeply, his tongue sliding past my lips and exploring the inside of my mouth. He pulled away and turned to Simone. “You haven’t greeted our guest properly, Simone.”
She rose from the chair and walked over to where we stood. “You’re right Micheal. Please forgive me my lapse.” She looked at me and smiled again. She raised a hand to my face, then placed it behind my neck and leaned in to kiss me.
Her lips touched mine briefly, çağlayan escort lightly, then she pulled me towards her and kissed me, deeply this time. I was startled by the feel of another woman’s lips on mine. As my mouth opened slightly, she pressed her tongue into my mouth. Ronen stood, watching, as Simone explored my mouth with her tongue.
I had never been kissed by a woman before. Although I had written about it, it was from imagination, not actual experience. This was real. This woman was real, as were her lips. And they felt good. I was aware of Ronen standing there, watching us.
Simone pulled away and broke our kiss. She turned to Ronen and asked “May I fix you drinks?”
Ronen said to her, “Yes, Simone, that would be nice. And please give us a few moments, will you?” She nodded, and walked over to the bar. Ronen looked down at me, taking me in for a minute, then he said to me, “Simone is not my wife. That’s what you were wondering, is it not?”
I hesitated, then said, “Yes, Sir.”
“She is someone just like you, that”s all you need to know.” He fixed his cool blue eyes on me. “And you are both here for my pleasure. Do you understand that?” I nodded.
“Good girl.” he said. He took the drink from Simone and she handed me mine. He looked at both of us, then said, “Well, I think we all understand one another.” Simone smiled and said, “Yes, Sir.”
I also said “Yes Sir, ” although I had no idea what I was agreeing to. To be honest, I didn’t care. This woman’s kiss had aroused me, and no matter what they had in mind, I wanted it.
“Why don’t you girls go and get ready.” Ronen said. He took his drink and went to sit on the bed. Simone took my hand and said, “Let’s go.” She lead me to a room off the main bedroom.
It was a master bath, with a huge walk-in closet. Simone, still holding onto my hand, leaned in and whispered to me, “You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
I nodded. “I can guess. Is that why you’re here, too.?
She smiled. “Yes, Carla. I am, too.” She turned away and turned the shower on. The water ran, gradually becoming hot. She looked at me a moment, then said, “It’s not so bad, you know? He just wants certain things, and he makes me…” Her sentence hung, unfinished. But I knew what she was going to say.
“He makes you hot?” That’s what she was going to say, I knew it.
“Oh God, yes Carla!” She watched me, then said, “He makes you that way, too, doesn’t he?”
Of course I agreed, she was right She began to undress, and I did the same, taking note of her beautiful little body, similar to my own, but with darker hair. When the water had gotten nice and hot, she stepped in and took my hand, and we stood under the stream. She picked up a bar of soap and began to lather herself, then me. Her hands, slippery with soap, glided over my body, lingering on my breasts, which she squeezed gently, then slid down my belly to my pussy. I did the same for her, and we spent several minutes just rubbing the soapy lather over each other. She slipped a single finger into my ass, then said,
“Has he taken you this way yet?”
“Um, yes,” I murmured as she slid her finger gently in and out. Her hands felt wonderful and I began to breath more quickly as she worked one, then two fingers into my ass. Without asking, I ran my hands down her body and slipped my own soapy fingers into her as well. Her little hole twitched as I fingered her the same way she was doing to me. But where I was still very tight, she opened to my exploring fingers.
“Did you like it?” I told her that indeed I had, but that it had hurt. “It does, the first few times. But after that…”
I knew what she meant. When Ronen had taken me that way, the pain had been intense at first, but had soon eased, replaced by a pleasure just as intense. Right before I had come, I was meeting him thrust for thrust as he plowed into my ass. And even though I was very sore back there for a few days, I also found myself craving it, wanting again to feel that big cock impaling me from behind. I hoped I would soon feel it again, but knew that, in all likelihood, I would be.
When we finished up in the shower, she toweled me dry, then herself, and led me back into the bedroom where Ronen waited. As she did, she leaned to me and whispered, “Just follow my lead.” I nodded. Of course, she had done this before, and knew what to expect. I, on the other hand, was still new at this game.
Ronen was still dressed, white shirt, black slacks, he even still had his shoes on. He sat in a chair, looking us both over, drink in hand. He inclined his head towards the bed, and Simone gently pushed me down across it, on my knees, ass in the air. Without a word, she knelt behind me and began to tongue me, first my pussy, then up along the cleft of my ass. With both hands, she spread my cheeks and licked at my asshole, probing it with her hot, wet little tongue.
The feeling was like nothing else I had experienced. I sighed, and opened up wider for her as she began to lick at me in earnest. Ronen watched us, his eyes intense, his expression unreadable. As Simone worked at me with her mouth, I began to breath more quickly. This woman knew her business, knew all the spots to lick, where to apply pressure, and where to tease me lightly with her tongue. She continued a little while longer, then just as suddenly as she started, she stopped and pulled her face away from me.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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