Office Slut 2

‘Bankruptcy is down there, toilets to your right, over here is...’

Gerry’s narration of his tour of the office seemed to fade into background noise as Pete caught sight of, perhaps, the most incredible woman he’d even seen. It wasn’t that she was good looking – she was – but the brunette could have stepped right out of one of Pete’s own fantasies. Long, well-toned, legs emphasised by six-inch heels, leading up to a short, tight, skirt. A wasp-thin waist and ample bosom, wrapped in jacket and blouse cut expertly to her curves. The pair of slender glasses perched on her nose, for Pete, was the cherry on top of the rather delicious sundae she presented. Her outfit was professional, of course, as befit a high-price legal firm like Pearce, Kane, and Hart, but the sway of her hips, the way she held herself, the way she moved... Pete couldn’t help but be blown away.

‘Ah,’ Gerry’s voice (not to mention his rather garlic-scented breath) snapped Pete out of his momentary daze, ‘I see you’ve noticed our Kimmie.’

‘Um...’ Pete found himself floundering as he blinked, turned to face Gerry for a moment... but found his gaze drawn almost against his will back towards the brunette, ‘... Kimmie?’

‘Kimberly Clarke,’ Gerry answered, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as he stepped closer to Pete, ‘Dominic Hardman’s secretary... lucky bastard. She’s an interesting one, our Kimmie.’

‘I’d say...’ Pete murmured... then felt his cheeks flush as he realised he’d been talking out loud. Gerry laughed,

‘She’s a whore, you know.’

‘What?’ Pete frowned as he turned back to the small, plump, balding man who was showing him around his new place of work, ‘I’m sorry, Gerry, I’m not a big fan of... office gossip...’

‘No,’ Gerry was barely suppressing a grin, ‘it’s not gossip, it’s in her contract: she signed a “sexual activities” clause – you remember when they legalised the sex industry a while back? Yeah, Kimmie’s a genuine office slut.’

Pete’s frown remained in place: truth be told, he’d never had much stomach for any of the macho bullshit his colleagues often went in for, and demeaning woman just because they happened to look nice or sexy, or (he guessed in Gerry’s case) refused to date you, was pretty low, in his estimations. Still, it was his first day, and Gerry was the guy showing him around, so it wouldn’t do to rock the boat or get a reputation as a killjoy or anything. Pete let it drop... although his gaze lingered on ‘Kimberly Clarke’ for a few moments longer as Gerry shrugged, and moved on with the tour.

Over the next few days, Pete’s efforts not to dwell on the gorgeous brunette met with limited success. It wasn’t so bad at work, where he was rushed off his feet getting up to speed with everything, but once he finally got home and started to relax, he found it hard to get the image of Miss Clarke out of his mind. What Gerry had claimed about her contract, although obvious bullshit, didn’t help matters. Still, Pete tried his best. He actually got his new apartment unpacked in just two evenings, when he’d imagined living out of boxes for months (as he usually ended up doing after a move). The next night he just tried his best to ignore his urges – he’d not even seen the woman after that first day, those few brief moments, so felt more than a little stupid getting obsessed. By the fourth night, however, lying naked on top of his bed, staring up at the ceiling and unable to sleep he finally thought ‘what the fuck’ and masturbated to the image of the brunette in his mind’s eye. He wasn’t proud of doing so, of course, but he did end up sleeping better for it...

... Which is probably why fate led him to bump into Miss Clarke live and in the flesh the very next evening. Working late, still trying to get up to speed on all the clients he’d been assigned, Pete had assumed that everyone else had gone home. He was sitting in the break room, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading over a file when Miss Clarke walked in, looking as amazing as he remembered her. She sent a polite smile his way, a murmured word of greeting, then turned to pour herself a coffee. Pete hadn’t meant to stare, of course, he didn’t consider himself a pervert or anything, but he seemed to be having trouble averting his eyes from Miss Clarke’s perfectly formed rump when she spoke,

‘Is everything alright?’

Pete nearly dropped his coffee mug as he averted his eyes and found himself stuttering, knowing that he was both making it obvious what he’d been doing, and making a complete ass out of himself at the same time, but unable to stop. Finally he managed to get enough of a grip on himself to look up into the woman’s face... only to see an expression which he couldn’t work out: concern, pity, disgust, or maybe amusement? She remained staring at him, one eyebrow raised, and just a hint of movement at the corner of her full, red, lips which Pete thought could be a suppressed smile. There followed an uncomfortable silence, until Pete’s brain finally managed to catch up with what she’d said. Inwardly wincing, he replied,

‘Ah... well... that is... no... I mean yes, I’m fine... um... thanks for asking...’

Great going, dumbass – the thought ran through that part of his mind which seemed to stay rational, even when he was drunk or, like now, acting like he was an awkward hormonal teenager. Miss Clarke meanwhile, shrugged a little, and turned back to getting her coffee. Pete was starting to wish for the proverbial hole in the ground to swallow him up, and had the horrible, if irrational, feeling that she must somehow know that he’d been jerking off thinking about her the night before. Telling himself to get a grip – he was meant to be a high-priced legal hotshot after all! – he did his best to shove all his numerous insecurities to the back of his mind somewhere and, as she turned to leave, he stood and offered his hand (trying not to dwell on what he’d been using it for the previous evening...),

‘Sorry,’ he began, ‘I seem to have forgotten my manners. Peter Goode... Pete... I’m new here: started this week in overseas acquisitions.’

Miss Clarke paused, then turned back to face Pete. She looked at his outstretched hand for a moment, almost as if she was making a decision, then finally shook it,

‘Kimberly Clarke,’ she replied.

‘I know...’ Pete could have happily shot himself even as the words were leaving his lips, but it was too late, the damage was done. The brunette raised an eyebrow again,

‘Really? And what do you know about me, Mister Goode?’

‘I...’ Pete hesitated, trying to dredge up if Gerry had told him anything else apart from the whole stupid whore rumour, ‘... that you’re Dominic Hardman’s secretary.’

Kimberly nodded,

‘Anything else?’

Pete could almost swear that there was a sparkle to her eyes, despite her deadpan expression, and wondered if she was baiting him. But he’d already made pretty much as big an ass of himself as he could, so decided to throw caution to the wind,

‘Well...’ he began, trying to judge her reaction, ‘... honestly?’

‘Mister Hardman is a stickler for honesty,’ Kimberly retorted evenly, ‘and I’d like to think the same goes for me.’

‘I...’ Pete hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, ‘... well, if we’re being honest, I was told this rumour that you’d signed some sort of... “sex worker”, I guess... clause in your contract. Total bullshit, of course, but that’s what one of the guys said...’

Pete wasn’t sure what he’d expected her reaction to be: upset maybe, or angry, or indignant? But he hadn’t expected the sly sort of smile which touched her lips,

‘Why?’ she asked, her tone so sweet and innocent that Pete thought it verged on devilish.

‘Why?’ Pete repeated, then shrugged, ‘I guess because guys are macho assholes who like to say bullshit stuff about beautiful women...’

‘No,’ Kimberly’s smile twitched into a tiny pout for a brief moment, ‘I mean why do you assume it’s bullshit, Sir?’

Pete mentally swore as he felt a familiar stirring in his loins - even the way she called him ‘Sir’ was piling fuel on the fires of his fantasies! Was she deliberately teasing him? No... that seemed unfair... it was him with his mind in the gutter; the poor woman was just trying to make conversation. He gestured for her to sit and when she (to his relief) did, he followed suit. He tried his best not to stare as she crossed her long, toned, legs, he really did, but for a brief moment he caught a glimpse of pale thigh, and realised she was wearing stockings, not tights... and black silk stockings with a seam up the back at that... For a brief moment, it crossed his mind that fate had sent this woman to test him, but he pushed the thought aside as best he could, along with the image of her be-stockinged legs, and forced his eyes to meet hers,

‘Well,’ he replied, ‘it is bullshit... isn’t it? I mean, who in their right mind would sign a contract like that?’

‘Thanks.’ Kimberly’s response was deadpan. He stared at her for a long moment (and made a mental note that he really had to stop staring at this woman – she’d think he had a condition or something...), blinked, then frowned,

‘I’m sorry,’ he began, ‘but... what are you saying? Did you really sign a contract like that? Did you... I mean... are you... er... contracted to..?’

‘Would you like me to be contracted to...’ she trailed off her sentence in gentle, if obvious, mockery of him, the smile on her lips now pretty much convincing Pete that he was being teased somehow... he just wasn’t quite sure how. Rallying his thoughts and emotions as best he could, Pete silently chided himself – he was better than this; sure he’d allowed himself to get flustered by her, but he was good enough at his job to be able to hold his own in a God-damned conversation! Drawing on his best professional mask, Pete played a calculatedly nonchalant smile of his own and shrugged,

‘Hey, you were the one who was so keen on honesty,’ he pointed out, ‘so the question stands: do you have a clause in your contract that covers you being a sex worker, or not?’

Once more she allowed a pause before answering him, as if trying to come to a decision. Inwardly Pete was hoping he’d not overstepped himself – whatever else, he was enjoying talking to her, and didn’t particularly want to piss the woman off for no good reason – but he managed to maintain the casual expression which had helped him negotiate so many deals in the past. Finally, Kimberly took a sip of coffee, what looked to Pete like a slightly deeper breath than normal (he wondered: steadying her nerves perhaps?), and replied,

‘Yes.’

Pete felt his carefully calculated expression fall away,

‘What? No? Shit...’

‘Thanks.’ Once more, her tone was deadpan. Pete was confused for a moment, then quickly replied,

‘What? No... not that you are shit... or... or the idea’s shit... or... well, you know... I meant “shit” as in “an exclamation of surprise”.’

Kimberly chuckled, mischief seeming to dance in her eyes. Pete had to smile too,

‘You’re teasing me,’ he said, as much a statement as it was a question. Kimberly took another sip of coffee, peering over her glasses and through her long lashes at him,

‘Little bit,’ she admitted.

Pete relaxed a little, leaning back in his chair,

‘So you’re not really..?’

Kimberly raised an eyebrow,

‘Hmmm? Oh, no, the thing about the contract is true; I was just teasing you about your reaction to it.’

Pete felt a small surge of pride that he managed to resist having a repeat reaction, and instead replied,

‘Oh... so... um... well, how does something like that even work? Do you, uh...’ he hesitated, glancing sidelong at Kimberly. She was into the honesty thing, right? And seemed to be okay talking about this; it seemed that Pete himself was the one making it weird. He shrugged, ‘Look, this is all a bit of a shock to me, and I’m trying hard not to come across as an asshole... or, at least, you know, any more of an asshole than I’ve been so far... so I’ll apologise in advance for anything I may say which is out of line, okay?’

Kimberly was leaning forwards, both elbows on the table, nursing her mug of coffee between her hands,

‘Whatever you want, Sir.’

Painfully aware of what it was doing to him every time she talked like that, Pete squirmed on his seat a little. By now he was pretty much convinced she was getting a kick out of watching him dig his own grave, but decided to press ahead regardless,

‘So do you have to..?’

‘Fuck?’ she offered helpfully. Pete squirmed a little more, reaching up to loosen his tie and pop open his top button,

‘Okay, fine,’ he retorted, ‘do you have to fuck anyone who asks?’

‘Anyone in the world?’ she teased.

‘Anyone in the firm, I guess,’ countered Pete. Kimberly seemed to peer into his eyes for a couple of heartbeats before responding,

‘It doesn’t quite work like that.’

‘Okay, good,’ Pete nodded, thinking they were finally getting somewhere... she didn’t seem too interested in making this easy for him... ‘so how does it work?’

Again Kimberly paused, then sat back and put her mug on the table, averting her eyes as she spoke,

‘Does a... I don’t know...  a bricklayer have to build a wall?’

Pete thought about it for a second or two,

‘Well... no. It’s not like you could force him to build a wall if he didn’t want to... but you could fire his ass for not doing his job.’

‘Right.’ Kimberly nodded.

‘Oh... okay...’ Pete pondered for another moment or two before continuing, ‘so for that... um... “aspect” of your job... can anyone employed by the firm just ask you to... well, to fuck them... and you’d be contractually obligated to do so?’

Kimberly shot him a side-long glance,

‘Not really. I work for Mister Hardman: it’s up to him whether anyone else can “borrow” me or not.’

‘Jesus!’ Pete exclaimed, then immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw her scowl a little. But it just seemed too much for him to take in as he continued, ‘so Hardman’s like your... what?.. your pimp?’

That made her smile again,

‘He hates it when I say that,’ she replied, before leaning closer to Pete and adding, ‘so I save it for special occasions...’

Pete smiled, but his curiosity was getting the better of him,

‘But, essentially? I mean that’s the way it works?’

‘Kind of,’ came her rather non-committal reply, ‘not really... but, yes, you’d need to ask Hardman.’

Pete sat back, feeling like the whole thing had knocked the stuffing out of him,

‘Wow.’

It was a while before he realised that Kimberly was staring at him quietly, and he fidgeted and sat up a little straighter, but was stumped for what to say next. Thankfully she broke the silence first,

‘So,’ she asked, ‘what do you think?’

‘I think... well, if we’re being honest still, I half think I’m being set up here: you know, some stupid initiation of the new guy... but no...’ Pete looked into her eyes, ‘... no, I think you... and your situation... are on the level.’

‘And what do you think of me?’ she asked pointedly. Pete considered before answering, finding himself unsure of what a truthful answer would be. What did he think? That she was gorgeous? That she seemed like an intelligent young woman and he couldn’t understand why she’d want to do such a thing? That he wanted to fuck her, but felt like an asshole for even contemplating taking advantage like that? In the end he answered as honestly as he could,

‘I think... I think that I’ve got no real basis for comparison here. Truthfully I’m feeling a little out of my depth as far as your employment conditions go. I’d like to think I’m not the sort of guy who judges people on that sort of stuff. If we’d just had a conversation about, say, the filing work you do around here, I guess I’d think you’re a smart, professional, friendly young woman... beautiful too, of course... who I’d be more than happy to get to know better...’ he laughed, then shrugged, concluding, ‘... honestly, I’d probably be trying to get up the courage to ask you out!’

She smiled a warm smile. Pete’s mind was still racing – it was a weird situation after all – but to Hell with it, he liked to think that he wasn’t a hypocrite. Leaning a little closer to Kimberly he asked,

‘Would you be interested in dating?’

Not for the first time, her reaction wasn’t what he expected. For a brief moment her eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine surprise, but then her professional demeanour quickly settled back into place. She appeared to think about it for a while before shrugging,

‘It never really crossed my mind,’ she admitted. Pete was a little unsure what she meant,

‘What... dating me?’ he asked. She offered him an indulgent smile,

‘Dating anyone from work. Before I worked for Mister Hardman I was too focused on my career to consider romance. Since... well, considering there are easier ways to get to fuck me, I guess it’s never cropped up.’

Pete could see that, but wisely chose not to share the thought. Kimberly seemed to think about it for a while longer, then sighed and smiled a rather sad little smile,

‘I think... no. It’s probably best I maintain a no dating work colleagues policy. I can’t see it leading to anything but heartache down the line, considering my employment conditions, and it’s a little bit unprofessional anyway so... it’s sweet of you to ask, Mister Goode, but... no.’

Sweet – Pete had a horrible flashback to more than one gentle rejection from his past, but tried to ignore the emotions it stirred. Instead he managed what he hoped was a cavalier shrug,

‘Ah well, can’t blame a guy for trying.’

Kimberly nodded, even as she stood,

‘Quite so, Mister Goode,’ she stepped towards the door, ‘it was nice talking to you. Good night, Sir, and welcome to Pearce, Kane, and Hart.’

Pete smiled politely as he watched her walk out, but knew that, one way or another, he wasn’t likely to be sleeping well any time soon...

It was about a week later when Pete found his view of Kimberly shattered once more. He’d been... well, he didn’t want to think of it as ‘avoiding’ her as such, but he hadn’t gone out of his way to bump into her again. Even throwing himself into his work, he’d caught himself wondering which of the men in the office Kimberly had ‘serviced’, and just what went on between her and her boss, Hardman. The more he tried to not think about it, the more he found himself wondering what it would be like to fuck her... then hating himself for even dreaming about such a thing. Pete had always tried his best to be a good guy when it came to women, after all - to not objectify them just as sexual playthings, to try to think of their feelings too, simply to treat them like people. On occasion he’d worried that his attitude made him a bit of a wimp (and then worried that worrying about it made him even more of a wimp) but on the whole he much preferred the idea of being a twenty-first century guy to being some idiot caveman. He found that his conversation with Miss Clarke was haunting him, screwing with his world view. He couldn’t get his head round why she’d want to do such a thing: was she some sort of nymphomaniac? Was Hardman bullying her into doing it? Did she have some sort of fucked-up childhood which messed with her head? None of the answers he could come up with seemed to fit the seemingly normal, well-adjusted, young woman he’d talked to. It was both baffling to him, and intensely frustrating. But his confusion had only just begun...

Working late into the evening as he tended to, dealing with clients in different time zones, Pete was finally on his way out when he heard a weird noise drifting from Hardman’s office. It sounded like a series of masculine grunts, each followed by a swishing noise, then some sort of impact, and what he swore was a feminine yelp. The series kept repeating. For a long moment, Pete stood, ready to step into the elevator, eyes closed... but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. Cursing himself, he quietly headed towards the sound. As he got closer he saw that Hardman’s office door was slightly ajar, and the series of noises was drifting through it, accompanied, he could hear as approached, by a gentle sobbing. Concern and, if he were being honest, a morbid curiosity drew him on. For a moment he considered barging in to demand to know what was going on, but shuddered at the thought that he’d just catch Hardman watching a movie or something. Not proud of himself, Pete instead snuck up to the crack in the door to peer through...

It took an effort of will for Pete not to exclaim something out loud as he took in the scene. A woman – who could only have been Kimberly – was bent forward over Hardman’s desk, dressed in only a tight red silk and black lace corset, those seamed black silk stockings, and the six-inch high black suede shoes she tended to wear. Hardman was standing behind her and to one side, jacket off and shirt-sleeves rolled up, and was bringing the old-fashioned school cane in his hand down, repeatedly, across her nude buttocks and thighs. Each blow was raising a crimson welt on her pale flesh – not breaking the skin, but enough to cause Pete to wince in sympathy. Hardman was placing a fairly neat line of horizontal red stripes down her bottom with the sort of aim which Pete guessed meant he’d had plenty of practice. Each time the cane landed, Kimberly jerked and cried out, sobbing all the time, although she made no attempt to rise, and didn’t seem restrained in any manner. On one level, Pete had the urge to leap in, to grab the cane off that brute Hardman, maybe to lay it about the guy’s head a bit, and to save poor Miss Clarke. On another level, and to his shame, Pete found he was painfully erect witnessing the scene, the blood rushing through his veins less righteous anger and more primal passion. Locked in indecision, in the end Pete found himself just staring as the scene played out.

Eventually Hardman ceased his whipping, dropping the cane and rubbing the ache out of his shoulder with his other hand, and Pete thought that at least Kimberly’s ordeal was over. It was then, however, that Hardman stepped behind his secretary, unbuckled his belt, and undid his pants. For a moment Pete was confused, but when Hardman started pumping into her, slamming her up against the desk, and drawing forth more cries and sobs, Pete realised that the guy was having his way with her. Pete was stunned. Stunned, horrified... and even more aroused. No matter that his rational mind was trying to scream how wrong it all was, Pete couldn’t help being turned on by what he was witnessing, couldn’t help but imagine how good it would feel to be in Hardman’s place, slamming his cock into that perfectly formed, freshly caned, bottom. He loosened his collar and tie, finding it suddenly hard to breath, his mouth suddenly dry, as he watched Hardman fucking Kimberly across the desk. Before long Hardman, panting, took a step back. A moment later Kimberly slipped to her knees in front of him. Pete saw that she still wore her slender glasses, but that behind them was a tear-streaked face. As he watched, she brushed a loose strand of long brunette hair out of the way behind her ear, leant forwards, braced her hands on Hardman’s thighs, sniffed a little, smiled up at her boss, and took his still-hard cock in her mouth. Kimberly started to work her mouth up and down Hardman’s shaft, withdrawing every now and then to flick her tongue across the tip of his cock-head, then engulfing the whole thing once more. She started to work faster and harder, but apparently it wasn’t enough for her boss, who grabbed the back of her head and started thrusting into her mouth, pumping away vigorously as he built to...

Pete mentally swore as he ejaculated into his own pants. Glancing up to make sure that both Hardman and Kimberly were too occupied to have noticed him, he beat a hasty retreat to the gents, where he spent the next half hour or so trying his best to clean up the mess he’d made. He was still reeling from what he’d been privy to when he hurried to the elevator, and lost in thought as the doors started to close... only to be stopped by the slender fingers of a feminine hand at the last minute. The doors opened again to reveal Kimberly, apparently none-the -worse-for-wear, fully clothed. She smiled politely to Pete, and stepped in to join him. After exchanged pleasantries, the elevator started down, and a silence fell over them... but Pete felt he couldn’t just say nothing. So, trying to sound as innocent as he could he asked,

‘Are you all right, Kimberly?’

She smiled at him again, one eyebrow raised,

‘Yes, Mister Goode, why do you ask?’

Pete wracked his brain, not wanting to reveal he’d been a voyeur at her ordeal,

‘You... ah... you look like you’ve been crying...’ he offered. It was a lie, she looked fine, but Pete thought it at least sounded plausible. For a moment she looked a little shocked, and touched her fingers to her face in what appeared to be an unconscious gesture, even as she glanced at the mirrored panel just inside the door of the elevator. She seemed unable to meet Pete’s eyes then, and instead looked at her shoes as she replied,

‘It’s fine.’

‘So... ah...’ Pete risked pressing a little, ‘... have you been crying?’

Kimberly looked up at him again, this time meeting his eyes with her own. There was one of those long pauses Pete was starting to think meant she was making some decision she found tricky, then she replied,

‘Yes, Mister Goode, I’ve been crying. Thank you for your concern, but it’s fine.’

Pete wasn’t sure what to make of her response: was she just trying to hide what had happened? Maybe Hardman beat her on a regular basis? Pete hated that thinking about that possibility was threatening to make him hard again. God, what sort of a sick freak was he that the thought of a beautiful young woman getting canned and fucked on a regular basis was exciting him?

‘Oh,’ was all he murmured in the end, sounding pathetic even to himself, ‘okay... is there anything I can do to help?’

Kimberly turned away from him then, her brunette hair hiding her face. His instinctive assumption was that she was crying again, but then he noticed in the mirror that it looked more like she was trying to hide a laugh. Feeling more lost and confused than ever, he just stood there, dumbly, until she composed herself, a smile still trying to tug at the corners of her lips and eyes, and replied,

‘Thank you for offering, Mister Goode, but I think I’ll have everything... ah... in hand... as soon as I get home and into a nice, hot, bath.’

Whatever joke she thought she was making went completely over Pete’s head. Feeling stupid, embarrassed, and confused, he quickly bid her good night as the elevator reached the lobby, and made his way home to an uneasy sleep, and troubling dreams.

‘Mister Goode,’ Kimberly’s voice caused Pete to jump in surprise, ‘there you are.’

Sitting in the airport passenger lounge, waiting to catch the red-eye to Japan for a meeting with a potential new client, Pete had been lost in the details of the file he’d been catching up on when Kimberly had walked up behind him, looking as professional, graceful and sexy as ever. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d bore witness to the scene between Kimberly and Hardman, and in that time Pete had hardly seen her at all – and had only exchanged the usual polite greetings with her on those few occasions they’d happened to pass each other in the office. Kimberly’s appearance at the airport caught him completely off guard. Still, he managed to recover relatively quickly (relative, anyway, to the ass he’d made of himself the first time they’d spoken, he mused) and stood to shake her hand and offer her a seat,

‘Kimberly,’ he replied, ‘it’s... ah... it’s quite the surprise to see you here.’

‘Hopefully a nice surprise, Sir,’ she replied, one of those almost-smiles she tended to favour played on her lips. Pete tried his best to not become flustered, but didn’t manage a very good job,

‘I... um...’ he murmured his eloquent response, ‘... that is to say... yes... of course... ah... Sorry, Kimberly... why are you here?’

‘You put a request in to human resources for an assistant for this trip?’ she responded, Pete nodded,

‘Oh, yes... but it didn’t come through in time and...’ it suddenly dawned on him what she was saying, ‘... I’m sorry, Kimberly: are you here as my assistant?’

‘I hope that won’t be a problem, Sir?’ she replied, her expression an unreadable mask of professionalism. A scatter-shot of conflicting thoughts and emotions leapt into Pete’s head, so he grasped at the most innocent sounding one and just ran with that,

‘Oh... ah... not for me, of course... but what about Hardman?’

‘Mister Hardman chose to extend his skiing trip,’ she explained, ‘so I was unexpectedly available. Human resources had your request on file, and Mister Hardman thought it would be a good opportunity for me: I don’t really get to travel on the company’s dime.’ She seemed to spot some flicker of doubt or worry in Pete’s expression, but (he thanked his stars) appeared to take it in the wrong context as she quickly added, ‘I do realise this is a working trip, Sir, and not a holiday. I’d like to think I can be of assistance to you. I’ve read the files, but if there’s anything you’d like to go over in more detail, perhaps we could cover it during the flight? In the meantime, I’ve had our tickets upgraded to first class,’ she offered him a slightly cheeky grin, adding, ‘the benefits of having access to Mister Hardman’s expense account... Oh, don’t worry, I cleared it with him first, Sir... Mister Hardman also recommended the Imperial Hotel, Sir, so I went ahead and booked us in there. It’s five star, of course. I do hope that wasn’t too presumptuous of me?’

‘Ah...’ Pete was feeling a little overwhelmed, ‘... no, that’s fine, Kimberly... very efficient, thank you,’ he thought for a moment, then added, ‘and thank Hardman too, I guess?’

‘Mister Hardman is of the opinion that this deal could be very good for the firm,’ Kimberly responded, ‘and is keen that everything goes smoothly.’

‘I’ve never even said two words to the man,’ Pete observed. Hardman was a few notches above himself on the corporate ladder, after all, and Pete was the new guy too. Kimberly offered him a warm smile,

‘I admit, Sir, that I may have brought your work to Mister Hardman’s attention, but he’s not one to just offer his support on his secretary’s say-so: he reviewed the deal you’re setting up and genuinely likes what he sees. He’s...’ she trailed off for a moment and her smile slipped, to be replaced by a mild expression of concern, ‘... well, Mister Hardman always says he’s not one to make the same mistake twice, Sir, so I imagine that from his point of view this is your chance to sink or swim, as they say. Sorry, Mister Goode, Sir.’

Oh great, no pressure – thought Pete to himself, although he felt a bit guilty even forming the thought: the corporate hardball which guys like Kimberly’s boss like to play Pete could handle, and he wouldn’t have set this deal up in the first place if he hadn’t have believed he could close it, but... how the Hell was he meant to cope with Kimberly? So much for being in his comfort zone. No, he told himself, this was a real opportunity to impress a mover and shaker like Hardman, and those sorts of opportunities were usually hard-won at a shark-tank firm like Pearce, Kane, and Hart – Kimberly had gone out on a limb for him, and it was pretty shitty of him to be worrying about his own unworthy obsessions instead of being grateful,

‘God, woman,’ he replied, with a grin (only half-faked), ‘don’t be sorry! This is marvellous, thank you Kimberly! But... ah... if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I just have to make a quick phone call before the flight...’

‘Of course, Sir,’ Kimberly replied politely, ‘I’ll make sure everything is ready for our boarding.’

A hasty phone call back to the office had confirmed everything Kimberly had told him; so Pete found himself seated next to his fantasy woman on the flight to Japan. It turned out to not be half as bad as he’d expected: the majority of their few fellow passengers were sleeping, and as the two of them talked in hushed tones about the finer points of the proposed deal, Pete relaxed in the comfort of professional routine... even managing to spend thirty or forty seconds at a time not thinking about Kimberly’s legs... They were getting along well, even laughing at little jokes each other made, when Kimberly pointed out a young couple who went to the bathroom together, returning a few minutes later with naughty smiles on their faces,

‘Hah!’ Pete chuckled quietly, ‘Another couple join the Mile High Club!’

Kimberly smiled then, after a pause, replied,

‘Would you like to, Sir?’

‘Would I like to what?’ Pete asked, not really paying attention as he returned to flicking through the file on his potential client.

‘Have sex on an aeroplane, Sir,’ she explained. Still distracted and relaxed, Pete shrugged without looking up,

‘I don’t know: I guess... sure, why not? It’s the sort of thing people put on their bucket list, right?’

‘I meant now, Sir,’ replied Kimberly. It took several heartbeats to register before it dawned on Pete what she was suggesting. He looked into her eyes, finding her calm, collected, and appearing for all the world deadly serious; and suddenly he cared nothing about the content of the file he was reviewing, just being glad it was covering his otherwise obvious arousal.

‘What?’ he asked, feeling as stupid as he was sure he sounded. Still appearing utterly professional, Kimberly replied,

‘Would you like to go to the bathroom and have sexual intercourse with me, Sir?’

For a moment Pete was genuinely lost for words. He experienced a vivid vision of a dozen old drunken college buddies urging him to not be a wuss, even as he tried to remain calm,

‘Um...’ he began (wondering if he’d ever be able to speak in coherent sentences around this woman), ‘... would you like to do that?’

Kimberly averted her eyes,

‘It’s not about what I like, Sir,’ she retorted, ‘what do you want?’

‘I...’ Pete glanced around as if someone would overhear them, even though they were still talking in hushed whispers, ‘... to be honest, I very much want to, well... go into that bathroom and... “fuck your brains out” I think is the phrase used.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ she replied, still not looking at him as she started to rise from her seat. Startled, Pete grabbed her wrist – more harshly than he’d meant to – and pulled her back down. Kimberly shot him a venomous look as she pouted and rubbed her wrist. Pete winced,

‘Oh God,’ he began apologetically, ‘Kimberly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you...’

‘It’s okay, Sir,’ she replied, although from the look she was giving him he tended to think she felt otherwise. Hating himself more by the second, Pete sighed,

‘Look, sorry – you asked what I wanted, and I told you... that doesn’t mean I’m going to act on that desire.’

Kimberly frowned a little,

‘Why on Earth not?’

‘I...’ Pete began – why was it so hard for her to grasp this? – his frown matched hers as he continued, ‘... Look, I don’t want to take advantage of you, Kimberly, I’m not that sort of guy.’

‘How is it taking advantage?’ she retorted. Pete let out an exasperated gasp loud enough to cause a few heads to turn. Quickly he reverted to hushed tones,

‘God, Kimberly, you know – your position and everything. It’s... it’s not right for me to...’

‘To what?’ she interrupted, sounding more than a little annoyed, ‘Jesus, Pete, I thought we’d talked about this? I thought you understood? Asking me to do my job... any aspect of my job... isn’t “taking advantage”! You’re not taking advantage when you ask me to review a file – this is no different...’

‘It’s different...’ muttered Pete. Kimberly scowled,

‘It’s only different in your head – which seems to be stuck somewhere in the last millennium, by the way. You want to fuck me in the bathroom, Pete, then I’ll go fuck you in the bathroom, it’s what I’m paid for, after all.’

‘You’ll do it, but you don’t really want to, is that it?’ Pete snapped back. Kimberly folded her arms across her chest and turned away from him,

‘It’s not about what I want,’ she pouted.

‘Of course it fucking is,’ Pete retaliated between gritted teeth, ‘no sane woman agrees to a contract like yours! You get off on this shit, admit it!’

Pete regretted it the moment he said it, even as Kimberly stared at him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. He wanted to apologise on the spot, but some stupid sense of male ego prevented him, so instead he held onto his anger as she turned her head away again and muttered,

‘Bullshit: you’re just a prude and a fucking coward, Peter Goode, and you’re not man enough to admit that.’

Pete just about snapped. He wanted to hit something, to smash stuff, to scream at her from the bottom of his lungs! How could she be so fucking unreasonable?! Why couldn’t she see that she was the insane one?! Instead, letting his temper take over, he got to his feet, fists clenched at his sides in an effort to avoid doing anything stupid, and fairly spat a harsh whisper at her,

‘Fine!’

... before turning on his heel and striding to the bathroom, before he said anything more he may regret.

Stepping into the tiny aircraft bathroom Pete pulled the door shut behind him and stood there fuming for a few moments, before taking several deep, calming, breathes. God, that infuriating woman! How the Hell could she bring the worst out in him so easily? Shaking his head at himself in the mirror he glanced about then, wrinkling his nose as he recalled what he’d heard about hygiene in airplane toilets, put the seat down and wiped it off before sitting down and sinking his face into his hands. Damn it all, he so didn’t need this sort of hassle before his first big deal for his new employers! It would be bad enough if she were just a normal, insane, woman... but to his shame he was rock-hard in his pants... it’d serve her right if he did fuck her! The intensity of his own emotions came a quite a shock to Pete – what was wrong with him? Calming a little, swearing to himself, he sighed and undid his belt and pants, letting his cock bounce up free, vaguely hoping he wouldn’t be forced to rub one out in the airplane toilet, but seeing no signs of his erection fading on its own any time soon.

A gentle knock on the door threatened to stop Pete’s heart as he looked up from his none-too-subtle erection to the door... only to realise that, in his haste, he hadn’t locked it! He knew he needed to say something before one of the flight crew walked in on him, boner-and-all, but (not for the first time in recent weeks) his mind backstabbed him and went completely blank. He involuntarily held his breath as the door slid open... and Kimberly slipped inside. Pete thought she still looked pissed-off, and sat in dumb silence, even as she glanced at his erect penis, then closed and locked the door behind her. Saying nothing, she edged closer to where Pete was sitting and slowly hitched up her short, charcoal-grey business skirt, to reveal her stockings, a distinct lack of panties, and a smooth, hairless, pussy. Putting her hands on Pete’s shoulders, she straddled him, and lowered herself, slipping him inside of her, until she was sitting, facing him, on his lap. Pete knew he should say something, but a lifetime of social niceties hadn’t prepared him for the situation, and he found himself unable to do anything except think how good it felt to be inside Kimberly, how beautiful she looked, and the fact that her being pissed-off with him seemed, if anything, to be making him even harder. Kimberly sniffed, tossed her hair, and turned her face and eyes away from Pete, even as she started to grind up and down on his cock, the muscles of her pussy hungrily massaging his shaft. Vaguely aware he was making about as bad an impression as he could imagine, Pete just sat looking at her, drawn to the annoyed pout on her lips, the way she refused to look him in the eye, the fact she seemed to pretty much hate him... yet was still fucking him like a trooper. Pete felt something dark and primal stirring deep down within him and, unable to maintain the nice guy veneer he’d spent his life perfecting, heard himself – almost as if from a distance – utter a low growl. He slid his hands across Kimberly’s thighs, over the silk to the flesh, just indulging himself after weeks of looking without touching, suddenly with no care about her feelings at all. Moving his hands around to her oh-so-perfect butt he squeezed, hard, with no concern whether it hurt her or not, and yanked her down onto him, harder, and deeper. At that, Kimberly’s gaze shot round to face him, a shocked expression in her eyes, but Pete was past all that, and just kept pumping away at her as hard as he could, faster and faster.

A sudden bout of turbulence rocked the plane, and Pete went with it, slamming Kimberly, her legs wrapped tightly round him, up against the sink of the tiny bathroom. He thrust into her several more times, ignoring her attempts to keep her gasps muffled then, lost in just wanting to do everything he’d ever wanted to her before whatever madness had struck him passed, withdrew just long enough to spin her round, press her up against the mirror, part her buttocks, and drive his cock, slick with her own juices, to the hilt into her ass. Kimberly let slip a grunt between clenched teeth – of shock or pain or pleasure, Pete just didn’t care – then chewed on her lower lip, wincing with each thrust, as Pete ass-fucked her mercilessly, and she seemed to just hang-on for dear life and try to ride it out. Pete could feel the tight corset under Kimberly’s business suit as he wrapped his hands round the tiny wasp-thin waist it gave her and rammed into her again and again, before finally spending his load deep in her bowels.

He held himself balls-deep inside her, his vice-like grip offering her no choice in the matter, until he’d squeezed out every last drop and began to feel his cock slowly softening once more. Kimberly was leaning forwards, her forehead on the mirror, her hands braced on the sink, eyes wide and tear-rimmed behind her thin glasses, her panting and the corset causing her bosom to heave in an exaggerated manner. As his strength, and the surge of dark passion which had seemed to overcome him, started to fade, Pete leant forwards too, his hands braced outside hers on the sink, his head resting on her shoulder, drawing in ragged breaths, unconcerned that his weight was pressing down on her comparatively tiny frame. The thought crossed Pete’s mind that he’d happily just stay there, inside and on top of her, forever, but the moment was fast passing. With a deep breath, he stepped back as far as the tiny room allowed, withdrawing his cock from her ass then, not even sparing her a glance, wiped himself off and straightened his clothes. He nudged her aside, rougher than he’d intended and she was forced to sit down hard on the toilet, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk to her, let alone apologise, instead just running some cool water to wash his hands and splash on his face. He was drying off with a disposable paper towel when there was a knock on the door, and the sound of a flight attendant asking if everything was alright. Screwing up the towel and throwing it away, Pete glanced once, briefly, back at Kimberly, then unlocked the door and stepped out.

‘She was sick,’ he told the flight attendant, ignoring the knowing and rather annoyed expression on the woman’s face as he casually gestured towards Kimberly with a thumb over his shoulder, ‘but I think she’ll be okay now.’

Not waiting to hear any reprisals or to check on Kimberly, Pete headed back to his seat, where he put on the complimentary headphones and eye-mask, leant back, and pretended to be sleeping as he brooded in dark silence. He heard Kimberly return some time later, felt her slip into her seat next to his, but she made no attempt to disturb him and, eventually, he slipped off into dreams troubled by what he’d just done, how good he’d felt doing it, and most disturbing of all, the fact that he wanted to do it again...

Pete lay staring up at the ceiling in just his undershorts on top of the silk sheets of the oversized double bed in his suite at the Imperial, enjoying both the chill of the air-con on his exposed skin, and the quiet drone of its motor, and let his mind wonder. Hardman had made a good call, he decided, in choosing the Imperial. From all reports Mister Nakamura, the potential client, was a bit old school: he tended to equate the trappings of wealth with power, and tended to play into the stereotype of Japanese male dominance. What he was like behind closed doors was anyone’s guess, but that was the sort of image the guy presented to the corporate world, and the luxury of the Imperial would be a small point in Pete’s favour when it came to negotiations; having a beauty like Kimberly by his side, in an obviously subservient role, would probably be an even bigger selling point... if only Pete could play it right.

Thinking of Kimberly, Pete frowned. She’d said nothing about the incident in the airplane bathroom, and in fact had seemed pretty subdued and quiet around him all through disembarkation, getting through the various airport formalities, getting to the hotel, and checking in. She’d also been impressively efficient: she’d managed to get them through the airport in record time, had a limo waiting to pick them up, caused the hotel manager to drop everything – for a moment at least – to make sure they were comfortable, and had generally made Pete’s life bliss. He couldn’t remember ever having such an easy time on a business trip before used, as he was, to handling all that logistical stuff on his own. Sex aside, she was worth her weight in gold...

... But it was the sex which still troubled him. He wanted to feel guilty about what he’d done, but was finding it hard to do so. Rationally, he realised that everything in his upbringing, the society he lived in, told him he’d been a complete and unrepentant bastard, but emotionally he felt a deep sense of satisfaction, possibly more so than he’d ever experienced in his life before. He also wasn’t sure what Kimberly felt about it all. On the surface she should have been livid, or upset, or... well, any of the usual things you’d expect... but Pete was slowing getting it through his thick skull that maybe Kimberly just saw it all differently. The rumours Pete had heard about Kimberly’s boss, Hardman, suggested that the man had a talent for ‘reading’ people – they said he was a human lie detector – and his style was to steamroller over people, exposing their bullshit and getting to the heart of the matter. Maybe that’s what he’d done with Kimberly? Pete knew he wasn’t like that, he couldn’t read people at the best of times, not like that, and certainly not Kimberly. No, Pete tended to think of his own style as being more of a negotiator: he listened, tried to see the thing from the point of view of all parties, and then came up with a solution which, even if it didn’t make everyone happy, was at least something all parties could live with. He hadn’t done that with Kimberly. He’d made all the noises of being understanding and reasonable when they’d first talked, but had spent his time trying to figure out what was wrong with her, not taking what she had to say at face value and trying to see it from her point of view.

The more Pete thought about it, the more he started to realise that it was when he suggested that she enjoyed the sex that Kimberly had gotten upset. Even after he’d fucked her so savagely in the bathroom, she’d not really seemed upset. He’d thought her subdued, but maybe that was because he’d made no real effort to talk to her himself? She’d been efficient, and professional... she seemed to really revel in playing the whole professional angle, even in... no, especially in... her sex ‘work’. Maybe subdued wasn’t the right word to describe her after the incident, maybe it was more demure, or... submissive? She’d told him that the sex thing was just like any other type of work, but she’d seemed upset when he’d suggested she enjoyed it: but what was wrong with enjoying your work? She’d called him ‘Pete’ when she was angry with him, but ‘Mister Goode’ or ‘Sir’ the rest of the time, and she always seemed to call her boss ‘Mister Hardman’, even when such formalities were seldom enforced in the modern workplace. So maybe she did that because of the way it seemed to put Hardman... or Pete himself... in a more dominant role? Thinking about it, she hadn’t ever said she didn’t enjoy the sex, just that her enjoyment wasn’t important – maybe there was an important difference there which Pete had been missing? Maybe the sex wasn’t the point... or at least, the whole point... maybe what she liked was having a firm hand to guide her? Maybe the whole job thing somehow gave her permission to do the sex stuff she’d not have done under her own steam? Pete winced – if that was the case, then telling her that she obviously enjoyed it was probably the worst thing he could have said to her.

Pete turned his head to glance at the connecting door between his and Kimberly’s suites. He guessed he had a theory now, so the next stage would be to test it out, to prod a little to see what reaction he got. The fact it could lead to him getting to satisfy the urges he was, after the airplane incident, having a hard time denying was a bonus, to be sure. He lay, staring at the door for a while, thinking about Kimberly behind it. It was late, but not insanely so, and there was no need for him to go bowling in like a madman. No, a subtle approach was much more his style; Hardman had probably had her bent over a desk and caned on the first day she came to work for him, but Pete knew his own limitations, and the best way for him to play the game was piece by piece. Slow and steady wins the race, as they say, and besides, he was pretty certain he needed time to figure out his own feelings about everything too.

Getting to his feet, Pete walked over to the connecting door, took a final deep breath to compose himself, and knocked on it, quietly but firmly. There was a brief pause, then Kimberly answered,

‘Yes?’

Playing his first tentative card (and not wanting to talk through a closed door anyway) Pete took her answer as an invitation, and opened the door. It was just a small thing, a slightly arrogant and impolite presumption on his part, but it would be enough to establish who was in charge... which, of course, if she reacted badly, would turn out to be Kimberly...

... But that wasn’t the case. Pete opened the door to find Kimberly reclined on her own bed, propped up on one elbow, wearing only an oversized T-shirt as a nightdress, her slender glasses perched on her nose and her laptop in front of her. He took a moment to note that she had what he considered a superb figure, even out of the corset, and those legs of hers were already helping to make his blood boil. The fact that her T-shirt had a faded print of a cute teddy bear on the front somehow managed to add to the effect too. For her part, Kimberly was looking up at him, her face a neutral expression which seemed to Pete carefully composed. Maintaining the initiative, Pete made sure to speak first,

‘Kimberly,’ he began, calmly but firmly, ‘I would like to apologise for what happened on the plane...’

‘There’s no need, Sir...’ she started to interrupt, appearing to assume (as he guessed she would) that he was talking about the incident in the bathroom; but Pete held up his hand and she drifted into silence,

‘... I was out of line saying that you perform your contracted sexual tasks because you enjoy them. It was an unnecessary and cruel comment, and I’m sorry.’

‘Oh...’ Kimberly looked a little taken aback, and Pete began to think that perhaps he was onto something as she added in a soft murmur, ‘... thank you, Sir.’

Glancing towards her laptop, as if drawing a line under the incident, Pete changed the topic and asked,

‘Working late?’

‘Oh, no, Sir,’ Kimberly replied, with a small smile, turning the screen so that he could see, ‘just playing some cards.’

It was a good opening, and Pete seized it,

‘Well, Kimberly,’ he said, affecting a slight furrow to his brow, a hint of disappointment in his expression and tone, ‘I recall you telling me that you were aware this trip is business and not a holiday. So, since you’re obviously not busy, you can come in here and give me a blowjob.’ He turned before she could answer, as if assuming she’d comply, and headed back into his own room adding, without looking back, ‘don’t bother getting changed.’

There was a rather nice armchair in Pete’s suite, facing the balcony with its picture-window view of the mountains, and it was to this seat that Pete walked and sat, picking up a file at random and pretending to read through it. Casual as he was trying to make his outward appearance, inwardly his heart was rushing a mile-a-minute as he fought the urge to look up to see if Kimberly had followed him or not. For a few sickening seconds he thought he’d misjudged the situation completely and played the wrong hand... but then he heard Kimberly’s bare feet padding softly across the plush carpet and she appeared before him, sinking quickly to her knees. Pete risked a glance at her over the top of his folder, trying to make it appear to be nothing more than a disinterested movement of his eyes. He thought Kimberly seemed a little nervous (although maybe that was just him reading too much into the situation) as she brushed her long brunette hair out of the way with one arm, leant forwards, and carefully pulled his cock free of his shorts. Pete shifted a little in his seat, to better allow her access, but otherwise managed to keep pretending to read the file, even as her slender fingers stroked his shaft a few times, then her tongue started work, licking slowly up his length before flicking lightly over the end of his cock-head. Stealing a glance down, Pete was pleased to see she still had her slender glasses on, and found himself unable to look away as she moistened her lips with her tongue before slipping them over the head of his penis. As she suckled just his head, he felt her tongue working round it, flickering across it, and he let slip an involuntary moan of pleasure. Removing his cock from her mouth, but still holding the shaft in her hand, she glanced up at him, over her glasses and through her thick lashes. Pete quickly resumed an expression of vague disinterest, but perhaps a little too late, as a sly smile spread across her lips before she returned to the task at hand, slipping his cock back into her mouth and working slowly down his shaft, her tongue feeling almost prehensile as it danced slowly and sensually across his most sensitive skin. To Pete’s surprise, she kept working her way down his cock until her nose was burrowed into his groin, and he felt the head of his penis slip inside her throat. It wasn’t something Pete had ever experienced before, and it took a certain amount of willpower on his part to not orgasm right then and there. Unable to maintain the pretence, Pete dropped the file on the floor beside his chair and gripped the arms with either hand, as he closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and enjoyed every moment of the attentions Kimberly was lavishing on him. As Kimberly’s mouth, tongue, and fingers began to work his cock faster and harder, Pete felt the urge to just grab the back of her head and start face-fucking her as he’d witnessed Hardman do; but in the end he made himself resist, reasoning that he had plenty of time to try other things later, and wanting to enjoy what she was offering which, in Pete’s estimates, was pure ecstasy. He held out as long as he could, but in the end Kimberly brought Pete to orgasm, keeping his cock in her mouth and gulping down everything he shot, before making sure to suck out every last drop and keep licking and sucking until he was clean and starting to soften. Only then did she let his penis slip from her mouth, before tucking it neatly back into his undershorts, and sitting back on her heels. Even without the corset, she knelt with her back slightly arched, her breasts thrust out, but her head tilted down so she had to peer up at Pete through her lashes. It dawned on him that she’d both figured out the game he was playing, and had decided to play along to, even before she asked, in a demure voice,

‘Will there be anything else, Mister Goode, Sir?’

For all he’d decided to try to take things slowly, Pete found himself unwilling to end the evening’s entertainments so soon. He needed a few minutes (at least) to gather his own strength, but there was something else he wanted to explore anyway, so he gestured towards where his suitcase lay open on a side table and said,

‘Fetch one of my ties.’

A confused expression flickered across Kimberly’s face, but she gracefully rose to her feet and stepped over, looking into the case before asking,

‘Any one in particular, Sir?’

Pete hadn’t thought about that but on reflection, considering what he planned to use the thing for, he guessed his least favourite tie would probably work the best – they were all silk, and pretty tough, anyway,

‘The paisley one,’ he replied. A moment later Kimberly stepped back over to him, the tie draped over one arm, and stood quietly, as if she were waiting for him to make the next move. For a moment Pete contemplated telling her to kneel, but thought it might be a bit over-the-top; instead he just took the tie and said,

‘Turn around please, Kimberly, and put your hands behind your back.’

‘Why, Sir?’ she replied, the hint of a frown furrowing her brow. It wasn’t the reaction Pete had hoped for. He’d pushed, he thought, and guessed that this was the line she wouldn’t cross. He recalled that even when Hardman was caning her she hadn’t been restrained, so... No! Pete mentally kicked himself – he was doing it again, wasn’t he? Assuming instead of listening. So what if the women in his darkest fantasies were always submissive slaves who knew exactly what he wanted of them? That didn’t mean it would be the same with Kimberly and, if he were honest, not knowing what was coming was certainly making it more interesting for him as well. She hadn’t said ‘no’, had she? She’d just asked a question. Pete tried again,

‘Do you trust me, Kimberly?’

She looked at him, narrowing her eyes slightly, as she took one of what Pete assumed were her ‘thoughtful’ pauses. Finally she shrugged a little,

‘Not really, Sir, no.’

Once more Pete mentally berated himself. What a stupid thing to ask her! Of course she didn’t trust him, not to the extent he’d been implying: she hardly knew him, after all. Thinking about it, Pete was actually kind of relieved at her answer – at least it meant she wasn’t some drone who just did whatever she was told, heedless of the consequences; and if she were fully aware of the choices she was making then Pete didn’t have to worry that he was, somehow, reading the whole situation wrong and forcing her to do things against her will. Pete reminded himself to try to look at the situation from her point of view, or at least what his best guess at that point of view was. Her thing was the professional angle, right? She’d do the job asked of her, but that didn’t mean she was into blindly following orders. She seemed to enjoy the service, perhaps being used, rather than the sex itself... or that’s what she seemed to be telling herself. She’d asked him ‘why?’ and he’d not answered, had he...

‘That’s fair,’ he agreed, then stretched the length of silk tie between his hands, ‘I’d like to tie your hands behind your back, Kimberly; and then spank you. I may like to fuck you with your hands still bound a little later on, I’ve not decided yet. Would that be alright?’

Again she paused. Pete thought her eyes widened just a little as he’d explained his plans to her, and wished he had Hardman’s gift for reading people. His best guess was that Kimberly was trying to make up her mind whether to agree or not, but for all Pete knew she could have been wondering if she could make it to the door before the psycho sitting in front of her caught her... or thinking about what she was going to order for breakfast, for that matter... All Pete could do was wait for her response. Finally she licked her lips, seeming to Pete to be a little nervous, and replied,

‘Yes, Sir.’

Pete was fairly stunned. He’d been pretty sure she was going to say no, at the least (if not go ballistic on him or something), but here she was, hearing him describe one of his dark fantasies to her, and agreeing to it after what appeared to be careful consideration. Despite the recent blowjob, Pete could already feel his cock stirring again, and found an errant piece of his mind musing that if he kept this up he’d be swollen and sore by the morning. Meanwhile, Kimberly appeared to have taken his stunned silence as some sort of dominance play on his part, waiting for her to obey him or something and, taking deep breaths, turned and held her hands behind her, wrists together. Not wanting to ignore the invitation, Pete stood and drew the silk of the tie softly around her wrists, eliciting a slight tremble from her which made his heart skip a beat and his balls twitch with anticipation. As he drew on what he could remember from old camping trips and tied her wrists together tightly, but with a knot which wouldn’t slip, Pete noticed goose bumps rise on her soft, pale, skin, and found himself hoping that they weren’t due simply to the air-con.

‘Tight enough?’ he asked. Kimberly strained at her bonds uselessly for a few moments,

‘Yes, Sir,’ she murmured.

‘Comfortable?’ inquired Pete, brushing her long brunette hair aside as he stepped up close behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He felt her shudder a little, and couldn’t repress a smile as she turned her eyes towards him and replied,

‘Yes, Sir... under the circumstances. Thank you, Mister Goode.’

Keeping his left hand on Kimberly’s shoulder, Pete ran his right beneath her bound arms and down the curve of her spin, before slipping it under the thin cotton of her T-shirt and onto the bare flesh of her perfectly formed bottom. He was tempted to just take her there and then, witnessing a fantasy being fulfilled in front of him having sped his recovery quicker than he’d imagined possible, but that wasn’t what he’d told her and, although he was trying to hide it, he still wasn’t confident enough in what he was... in what they were... doing to go ‘off script’ like that. Besides, he really did want to spank her. With his hand on her butt he gently, but firmly, steered her towards his bed,

‘If you would be so kind as to kneel down, Kimberly,’ he instructed, ‘lean forwards, please, ass in the air.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ came her murmured reply, and Pete caught her eyes just flicking up to look at him for one brief moment before she sank gracefully to her knees and leant her weight on the silk-sheeted bed. She turned her face to one side, away from Pete, her breathing deep and her eyes closed. Contemplating her kneeling there for a few moments, Pete had the sudden urge to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming, but (perhaps irrationally fearing that he’d find he was) resisted and instead lifted the hem of Kimberly’s T-shirt night-dress up her back, exposing her buttocks. Considering the logistics of the situation, Pete dropped to one knee himself, his right hand (soon to be his ‘spanking hand’ he thought to himself, bringing a smile to his lips) running across Kimberly’s ass cheeks, feeling the smooth globes, squeezing, causing her to murmur and getting her blood flowing. Pete realised his own blood was flowing too, but did his best not to rush, to savour every moment.

The first blow Pete struck, fingers together and slightly curved in, was swift and lighter than he’d intended, but it still brought forth an impressive slapping sound, and caused Kimberly to buck in place, squeeze her eyes in a tight wince, and let slip a little yelp. Pete kept running his right hand across her bottom as he placed his left under her bound wrists and on the small of her back with just a little pressure to remind her to stay in place (not that she seemed to need it, but Pete enjoyed making the gesture all the same). Examining his handiwork Pete watched as Kimberly’s pale skin flushed red where his hand had struck. He chuckled to himself, and felt her squirming under his touch, although she made no attempt to rise. Pleased, Pete struck another blow, a little harder then, after a pause to feel and knead her butt cheeks as he examined the results, another, then another, slowing increasing both the power and frequency of the blows, alternating butt cheeks. Each blow which landed caused Kimberly to squirm and buck, to yelp and moan. Vaguely concerned that he was, perhaps, enjoying himself a little too much, Pete pushed such doubts aside, raining down smack after smack as he watched her bottom turn from its natural pale shade to a light red, then progress to a deeper crimson.

Finally, his own shoulder getting tired, and his hand tingling, Pete eased off the pace, then stopped, feeling the heat radiating from her poor punished bottom as he kept massaging and kneading at it for a little while longer. He saw tears streaking Kimberly’s face, her eyes were squeezed tight, and she was chewing at her lower lip... but he also noticed that her pussy appeared to be nice and wet. His right hand being so close anyway as it felt across her bum, on a whim he slipped it down, to probe into her, feeling for the pearl of her clit. When he found it Kimberly bucked harder than she had even under the spanking, as if he’d sent a jolt of electricity through her, and he laughed as he had to press harder with his left hand to keep her from bolting upright. Curling the fingers of his right hand, he silently offered her the knuckle of his middle finger, which she proceeded to rub against with what seemed to approach wild abandon. As the moans escaping Kimberly’s lips began to come short and quick, her wanton, almost desperate, gyrations on the knuckle he merely held in place increasing, he laughed again and withdrew his hand. A couple of gasps escaped Kimberly’s lips, and for a while she just lay there, dry humping the air, before settling down, her breathing ragged.

Unable to stop grinning from ear-to-ear, Pete flipped Kimberly over onto her back. She finally opened her tear-red eyes, which narrowed as she shot him a look so venomous it startled him a little, but then just made him laugh again. Her T-shirt still hitched up, he ran his hand down her flat stomach and across the denuded mound of her sex, but stopped short of slipping his fingers inside her again. Leaning close to her face he asked in a hushed whisper, knowing it was cruel to do so, but finding himself revelling in that cruelty,

‘Is there anything you want, Kimberly?’

In response her eyes narrowed even more to thin, accusatory, slits and a pout formed on her lips, before she imperiously turned her face away from him,

‘It’s not about what I want... Sir,’ she fairly spat the last word, but it only made Pete laugh again.

‘That’s right,’ he teased, ‘I’d forgotten; sorry Kimberly. Now, I’m still undecided about whether to fuck you or not,’ he lied, ‘to slip this, if it’s not too immodest to say, raging boner I seem to have acquired into your apparently well-lubricated cunt and hump you just as hard as I can. Of course, whether you want me to or not is, as you’ve reminded me, irrelevant, so while I mull it over I thought I’d have a go spanking that lovely smooth pussy of yours. How about it, Kimberly? Would that be okay?’

Kimberly’s gaze darted back to meet his, her eyes wide. The colour seemed to drain a little from her face, and her tongue slowly moistened her lips. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, and Pete was pleased to note that her nipples, beneath the thin cotton of her T-shirt, looked to be hard as little bullets. There was one of her long, decision-making, pauses, which Pete happily waited through, then he witnessed her actually swear under her breath before turning her face aside again, tears already leaking afresh from the corners of her eyes as she answered in a whisper,

‘Of course, Sir, that would be fine.’

‘Thank you, Kimberly,’ Pete replied in a cheerful tone, adding, ‘if you’d be so kind as to spread your thighs? Yes... a little wider...’ he prompted as she silently complied, ‘... that’s good.’

With her thighs spread wide, her soon-to-be-abused pussy just off the edge of the bed, Pete placed his left hand on her stomach, then ran it up, under her T-shirt to squeeze and feel over her breasts, to rub his thumb gently, teasingly, around the areolas of her erect nipples, even as his right hand explored her thighs and pussy. Kimberly moaned, her back arching up off the bed, and Pete moved his left hand back to her stomach to hold her firmly in place. Once she seemed warmed up, he brought his right hand up, then down in a swift slap across her sex. Kimberly grunted, as if through gritted teeth, and her thighs instantly sprang together, clamping onto Pete’s offending hand.

‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Pete, in surprise rather than pain. Kimberly’s eyes shot open and she blinked back tears as she stared at him,

‘I’m sorry, Sir!’ she exclaimed, sounding devastated, ‘I... I didn’t mean to... I...’

Drawing his hand free Pete pantomimed shaking and rubbing it, a frown creasing his brow. He knew it wasn’t her fault – what had he expected anyhow? – but in the moment it seemed to him that admitting that to her would probably of upset her even more. Not wanting that, he put on a stern voice,

‘Are we going to have a problem here, Kimberly?’ he asked. She sounded genuinely apologetic as she replied,

‘I... no, Sir, I... it’s just... um... maybe if I was standing up, with my legs apart?’

Pete thought about it,

‘Is that how Hardman punishes your pussy?’ he asked. For a brief moment it looked like Kimberly was going to answer, but then she turned her face away again and said in her quiet, professional, voice,

‘I can’t discuss the work Mister Hardman has me do, Sir... you know that.’

Pete inwardly cursed himself – he’d been an idiot to mention Hardman again. Still, whether through male ego or simply to distance himself from the blunder he decided he didn’t want to go with her suggestion. Standing, he paced a little, then fetched two additional ties from his suitcase. Sitting next to Kimberly on the bed again, he gently coaxed her to spread her thighs once more, then teasingly lay one of the additional lengths of silk across each thigh,

‘May I tie your thighs to the bed frame, Kimberly?’ he asked, surprised at the gentle tone in his own voice. She looked up at him, then closed her eyes, swallowed, and silently nodded. Worried that she was only agreeing because of some weird sense of guilt she may have felt about not being able to take the punishment she’d agreed to, Pete found himself dropping all pretence as he said quietly,

‘You know you don’t have to, Kimberly.’

She looked at him then and, despite being bound and beaten, with a tear-stained face, she offered him a warm smile,

‘I know, Pete,’ she replied, her tone sounding as quiet and honest as his. Pete felt a surge of emotion through his chest, and had to make an effort not to shed a tear himself. Do not – he told himself – fall in love with this woman, it’s not what she wants, and it will almost certainly fuck up your life. Nodding, he pushed such deep thoughts aside, and knelt to make fast Kimberly’s thighs to the frame of the bed.

When Pete was done Kimberly wriggled a little, but appeared secure, so he began to trace his hands across her body again, feeling across her stomach, over her ribs, squeezing her breasts and teasing her nipples, then down along the exposed insides of her thighs and across her pussy. He took his time, teasing and stimulating her until her trim body was undulating beneath his touch, a contented smile played at the corner of her lips, her eyes closed, and soft murmurs escaped her throat. He rubbed her pussy a little harder, getting her blood flowing, then tried spanking it again, a light, swift, blow with his open hand. Kimberly yelped and bucked, the muscles in her thighs reflexively tensing, but her silk bindings held. Continuing to run his left hand across her midriff, chest, and breasts, Pete spanked her pussy again with his right hand, then again, slowly building the power and speed as he’d done so on her ass. As Pete had imagined, it appeared to be a more painful experience that having her bottom spanked, and it wasn’t long before Kimberly was crying out, the tears flowing freely one more.

Pete finished with a couple of lighter blows, which caused Kimberly to whimper, then rubbed at her reddened, abused pussy for a while, before standing and stepping out of his undershorts. He’d hardly been exaggerating when he’d described his erection to her and, slightly worried about how much longer he would be able to hold out, Pete slid his hands over her thighs to cup and grasp her buttocks, then probed at the entrance to her cunt before thrusting to the hilt with one swift motion. Kimberly bucked and gasped, her eyes screwed up, biting her lower lip as he pulled back until only his head remained inside her; then thrust hard and deep once more. As Pete kept thrusting, faster and faster, his own urgency building, he felt the muscles of Kimberly’s cunt squeeze his cock hungrily, even as she gyrated and thrust back at him, as best as her bindings permitted her.  His orgasm erupted inside her, and he was pretty sure she was matching him. His cock as deep as possible into her freshly spanked pussy, his hands gripping tight to her freshly spanked ass, Pete pumped his load, then finally collapsed, panting, on top of Kimberly, his head on her chest, her heartbeat drumming like a trip hammer in his ear, before slowly calming to a more normal pace.

For a while Pete just lay there, on top of Kimberly, spent and enjoying the warmth of her body squirming slightly beneath him, the scent of her perspiration, the sound of her breathing, until he felt himself softening inside her and, with a certain amount of reluctance and effort both, pushed himself up and off of her. He was half tempted to just crawl up the bed and go to sleep, leaving Kimberly restrained, but thought better of it and began working on the knots in the ties which bound her thighs. To Pete’s frustration the knots had pulled tight in her struggles and proved unworkable, so (thankful he’d used his least favourite ties for the job) he had to fetch a pair of nail scissors from his bag and slowly cut her free. She had scarlet lines marking where the ties had bitten into her thighs, and Pete, on an impulse, bent down to kiss them, feeling a little guilty, but finding that guilt once more overwhelmed by an intense sensation of fulfilment. Having eventually freed her legs, Pete helped Kimberly sit up then untied her wrists as well. For her part, Kimberly was keeping quiet. She rubbed her wrists when they were free, and winced a little as she squeezed her thighs together. Pete rubbed his hand gently over her back as they sat quietly together on the end of the bed,

‘Okay?’ he asked unable, this time, to keep the concern out of his voice. Kimberly nodded, but didn’t look at him, instead keeping her gaze firmly in the floor as she asked quietly,

‘Will there be anything else tonight, Sir?’

Pete was struck with the thought that he should probably say something profound, and that he’d likely taken things too far, but found himself unable to articulate any of that, and instead settled for a simple,

‘No, Kimberly: that will be all.’

Nodding but still not meeting his eyes she got to her feet, a little unsteady at first, then smoothed down her T-shirt, pausing to rub her hands over her spanked bottom and headed, with as much grace as she could manage, back towards the connecting door which led to her room. Feeling an unbidden surge of sympathy for her as she reached the door, suddenly unsure of if he wanted to keep playing this game, Pete called out,

‘Good night, Kimberly... thank you.’

Pausing in the doorway, Kimberly looked back at him, and what he hoped was a satisfied smile spread slowing across her lips,

‘No, Sir,’ she replied, ‘thank you. Sweet dreams, Mister Goode.’

A good night’s sleep in the five star bed, a hot shower and a shave the next morning, and Pete had managed to dispel any lingering demons of doubt he’d been feeling about the previous night’s activities. Kimberly seemed okay with it all... possibly more than okay... and he had promised himself to try to stop overanalysing the situation and to take what she told him at face value. When he emerged from the en-suite bathroom, only a hotel bathrobe covering his nakedness, he found Kimberly, up and dressed in one of her smart business outfits (with the wasp-thin waist which meant she was in a corset again) and awaiting him next to a serving trolley loaded with a variety of breakfast delicacies,

‘Good morning, Sir,’ chirped Kimberly in an apparently happy tone, ‘I took the liberty of ordering room service for you. I hope that wasn’t out of line?’

‘That’s fine, Kimberly,’ Pete replied, unable to suppress a grin as he added, ‘how are you feeling this morning?’

‘A little sore, to be honest, Sir,’ Kimberly replied, before jumping a little and letting slip a slight gasp as Pete grabbed and squeezed her bum through her skirt as he moved past her to sit down to breakfast. She pouted and gave him a side-long glance, ‘bad Mister Goode!’

Pete chuckled even as he started to inspect the various dishes she’d ordered (mentally telling himself that he really needed to get promoted so that he could have regular access to an expense account like Hardman’s),

‘Pour me some coffee, please, Kimberly: black,’ he asked, ‘then I think a blowjob to start the day.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ Kimberly replied in a cheerful tone, as she set about pouring his drink ‘of course, Sir.’ Placing his coffee in front of him, she dropped gracefully to her knees and parted his robe,

‘Make it nice and slow if you could,’ Pete added as she dipped her head down to begin tonguing his cock, ‘I’d like to savour your mouth as I breakfast.’

Completing a long, sensuous, stoke of her tongue up the underside of his swiftly hardening penis, Kimberly smiled up at him,

‘Certainly, Sir,’ she replied.

Eating fine foods in an expensive hotel while a beautiful woman dutifully sucked his cock, Pete wondered if that was what they meant when they said all your hard work would one day pay off. He sipped his coffee, scanned over the freshly ironed morning paper (his Japanese good enough to get the gist of the articles, if far from perfect), and contemplated Kimberly’s head slowly, languidly, moving up in down in his lap, as her soft lips and skilled tongue worked their magic,

‘So, Kimberly,’ he asked in a conversational manner after a while of just enjoying her ministrations, ‘do you always swallow?’

Kimberly didn’t rush to answer, but completed the upstroke she was working on before slipping her mouth from his cock, with a lingering flick of her tongue across the tip as she came, and looking up at him, even as her hand kept slowly massaging his shaft,

‘Yes , Sir,’ she replied, then added, after a pause, ‘that is to say: I supposed I’d spit if I was asked to... it’s just never cropped up.’

Pete chuckled, even as Kimberly bowed her head to continue sucking him off,

‘I guess it wouldn’t,’ he retorted, ‘at least not with most guys. So, do you like the taste of sperm, Kimberly?’

Once more she took her time removing her mouth from his cock, and kept her hand working in its absence, as she looked up at him again, apparently in thought, then shrugged a little, and answered,

‘Not really, Sir,’ before once more getting back to her appointed task. Pete mulled over her answer for a few moments as he contemplated pushing things a little further, testing to see if there was a line she wouldn’t cross. She kept telling him it wasn’t about what she wanted, didn’t she? Besides, based on her reactions so far, she’d probably do no more than say ‘no’ if she found that invisible, moral, line. More so, of course, he admitted to himself with a sly smile, he did enjoy nudging her out of her comfort zone.

‘Kimberly,’ he asked, ‘have you eaten yet?’

Again slowing coming to a pause in the blowjob, she glanced at him,

‘No, Sir: I usually don’t eat much for breakfast...’ she glanced down at the cock she was massaging in her hand, then looked back to him and smiled a little, adding, ‘... well, you know what I mean, Sir.’

Pete smiled too, then asked,

‘Would you eat some breakfast if I ejaculated on it?’

He watched as her eyes widened slightly, and felt her hand pause in its travels up and down his shaft. For a moment she just stared at him, then asked,

‘Would you want me to do that, Sir?’

‘Yes,’ he replied simply then, after a moment’s thought, clarified by adding, ‘I think it would be quite the thrill for me.’

‘Oh...’ Kimberly’s voice trailed to silence as she averted her eyes from his. After a moment she started to move her hand up and down his cock again, but it was a little longer before she looked back to him and replied,

‘In that case, how can I refuse, Sir?’

‘You can refuse if you want, Kimberly,’ Pete countered, not wanting to make the decision any easier for her. Kimberly pouted a little and frowned, but replied, her tone a little indignant,

‘It’s not about what I want, Sir.’

Pete nodded,

‘So... breakfast?’

Kimberly glanced down at the cock in her hand, an almost wistful expression on her face, before letting go, gracefully rising from her knees, and seating herself for breakfast. There were various dishes, both Japanese and Western, but Kimberly selected a little steamed rice, some soy beans, a few strips of dried seaweed, and a small amount of dried fish. Pete stepped over and Kimberly looked at his erect cock,

‘Should I..?’ she asked.

‘Please,’ agreed Pete. Kimberly reached out to begin massaging her hand up and down his shaft again even as, with a slightly annoyed sigh, she contemplated the breakfast which awaited her.

‘So...’ she asked, with a slight frown, still looking at the food, ‘... do you want to just cum over all of it, or..?’ she shrugged. Pete thought about it for a moment,

‘A little faster please, Kimberly,’ he prompted as he mused, and she glanced at him, then began to pump her hand up and down his shaft a little more vigorously. Considering she’d selected a Japanese breakfast, and the fact it would force her to take a more active role in what she was about to do, Pete made up his mind,

‘If I cum into that bowl,’ he indicated the small, empty, bowl used for soy sauce, ‘you can dip your food into my sperm to flavour it.’

Kimberly contemplated the bowl, as if she suddenly hated it, but nodded all the same,

‘Yes, Sir.’

The logistics of the thing worked out, and with a little more coaxing from Pete, Kimberly hand-pumped him to orgasm, holding up the little bowl to catch his ejaculate as he came. To her credit, Kimberly caught as much as she could in the bowl, with just a little catching on her fingers, and the last few drops dribbling from Pete’s cock. Glancing at the mess, Kimberly looked up at Pete,

‘May I, Sir?’ she asked. Pete nodded, and Kimberly bobbed her head down to lick and suck his cock clean, before licking her own fingers clean too.

‘Bon appetit!’ Pete offered, with a grin. Kimberly flashed him a venomous glance as she picked up and parted a fresh pair of chopsticks,

‘Thank you, Sir,’ she replied, with a tone of malice which made Pete chuckle once more. Chopsticks hovering over her selection, Kimberly glanced at the bowl of cum, back at the food, then sighed, shaking her head, and finally selected a strip of nori seaweed which, to Pete’s delight, she coated quite thoroughly with his cum before popping it into her mouth and eating.

‘Good?’ he asked, teasing. She gave him an annoyed glance,

‘Not bad, Sir,’ she countered, ‘would you like to try some?’

Pete laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender,

‘Sorry, Kimberly, you’re the one with cum-eating written into her contract.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ she muttered, but for all her obvious distaste, she still continued to eat, making sure to get as much of Pete’s cum on each morsel as she could. Pete could feel himself starting to get hard again as he watched her, marvelling at his own weird man-brain which found pleasure in Kimberly humiliating herself, and at her reactions too: on the surface of it eating cum as she was shouldn’t be any worse than swallowing it ‘from the source’ as it were, but it seemed to be for her – Pete mused that maybe it was the... defiling? Was that the right word?.. of a normal, everyday, activity which made the difference, but whatever it was, he seemed to have succeeded in nudging Kimberly out of her comfort zone. After a little while, as she ate in silence, he nudged a little more,

‘Would you drink my piss?’ he asked. Kimberly paused with cum-coated piece of fish half-way to her mouth, staring at him... then swore as the cum began to drip off the morsel, and quickly lapped up the extending droplet and popped the fish into her mouth as if it were golden syrup which had been dripping. Pete’s grin widened – for all her reluctance, once Kimberly had decided to go ahead, she seemed to go all the way. Chewing and swallowing, she frowned a little as she answered,

‘Is that safe, Sir?’

‘Sure,’ Pete replied, trying to sound casual, ‘as long as the...um... pisser I guess... hasn’t got a bladder infection or anything. Which I haven’t,’ he added as he saw her about to retort. Kimberly ate another cum-dipped morsel, suddenly seeming to hardly notice the sauce she was consuming, then asked,

‘And that would be exiting for you, Sir? Sexually I mean?’

Pete shrugged,

‘I think so, Kimberly: I’ve never asked a woman to drink my piss before, I’ve not got much basis for comparison, but humiliating you seems to be making me rock-hard so far, so it’s a fair bet it’ll work.’

‘Oh...’ she replied quietly. After another bite of her breakfast, she glanced up at Pete again, and he thought he saw an expression  of... what? Concern? Sadness? Hurt?.. on her face as she asked, ‘So... you like to humiliate me?’

Pete sensed things branching down a road he didn’t like the look of, so took a moment to try to see things from her point of view again. Reaching out to gently move a stray strand of brunette hair out of her eyes, he replied gently,

‘It excites me – sexually – to humiliate you, Kimberly, yes... or to have you humiliate yourself. I guess it’s a dominance thing; truth be told, I don’t know. This is all very new to me and, while I’m enjoying exploring it, I’ve not had the time... nor the inclination, I guess... to try to figure out where it’s all coming from. My fantasies have tended towards the dark, yes, and I’ve always been ashamed of that, but what you’re doing for me is... well, it’s liberating, Kimberly... fulfilling. For me your services represent an opportunity I’m unlikely to ever get again, and it... you... are a perk of the job I’m only just starting to appreciate. For that I thank you. My wanting to humiliate you doesn’t mean I don’t like or appreciate you, Kimberly... it’s weird to say, but almost the opposite: if you hadn’t forced me to respect your point of view on your employment, I’d never have been able to even ask this stuff of you. I...’ he trailed off as he noticed her raised eyebrow as she quietly listened to him, then concluded, ‘... God, I’m rambling here, aren’t I? Laying it on a bit thick?’

‘Little bit,’ agreed Kimberly, but then she smiled, ‘although I guess a girl deserves bit of effort when she’s asked to drink piss...’

Pete chuckled,

‘Yeah... I must have missed the etiquette class on that one...’

Taking a deep breath Kimberly nodded,

‘Okay then... we can’t let a speech like that go to waste. I’ll drink your piss, Sir.’

‘Happily?’ asked Pete.

‘I doubt it, Sir,’ countered Kimberly, ‘but then again, that’s the point, isn’t it?’

Pete smiled,

‘Good girl.’

Taking another deep breath, Kimberly glanced over the breakfast things, and selected a tall glass. Looking up at Pete she held it under the tip of his penis... waited... then asked,

‘Is there something I press to dispense it or something?’

Pete sneered a little,

‘Yeah I... I’m kind of semi-stiff here... it’s a bit tricky...’

‘You really didn’t think this through first, did you, Sir,’ teased Kimberly. Pete pantomimed a snarl,

‘Stow that talk, Missy,’ he retorted, even as he managed to squeeze out the first few drops of urine into the glass, ‘we could always call room service and get a nice pitcher of fresh piss sent up for you to drink if that’s going to be your attitude.’

‘Sorry, Sir,’ Kimberly replied with a half-smile, ‘I’ll be good...’

With a satisfied grunt, Pete finally got his flow going, his cock softening as he started to piss into her out held glass. Soon the glass was nice and full of clear, golden, liquid, and Pete squeezed off his flow and tapped his cock off on the rim of the glass to drip in the last few drops. Tentatively bringing the glass in front of her Kimberly looked at it, her nose wrinkled,

‘It’s warm,’ she observed.

‘You want it chilled now?’ asked Pete. Kimberly shot him a side-long glance,

‘No... Sir... I was just saying...’

‘Less saying, more drinking,’ prompted Pete. For a long moment Kimberly just looked at the urine-filled glass then, with a sneer, took a sip.

‘Nice?’ asked Pete. Kimberly shook her head,

‘Nasty, Sir. Would you..?’

‘No Kimberly,’ Pete interrupted, ‘before you ask, I would not like to drink my own piss... Or anyone else’s for that matter,’ he added before she could suggest otherwise, ‘now finish your breakfast.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ Kimberly replied, staring daggers at him in a manner which quickly started his cock hardening once more. Dutifully, Kimberly finished her cum and piss breakfast, even going so far as to lick out the bowl which held Pete’s sperm once she’d finished her food, and draining the glass of his piss dry. When she’d finished, she dabbed the corner of a serviette to her lips and looked up at Pete through her long lashes,

‘Thank you for breakfast, Sir,’ she said. Pete felt a satisfied smile spread across his face, then glanced pointedly down at his now fully erect penis,

‘Well I guess getting you to do that stuff does work,’ he observed in a conversational manner, then looked back at Kimberly and added, with a dark and cruel hint to his voice he couldn’t have faked if he tried, ‘I think that’s how you should eat and drink for the rest of the trip.’

‘I...’ Kimberly began to protest but, maybe seeing something in his eyes, she just hung her head and concluded, ‘... yes, Sir... of course, Sir...’

Pete would have liked to deal... or more to the point, get Kimberly to deal... with his erection, but the whole breakfast scene had taken a little too long, and he really wanted to pick up a new selection of ties before heading over to his meeting with Mister Nakamura. It turned out Kimberly tended to carry a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, and breath mints with her wherever she went (Pete could guess why) so she was ready to go even before Pete had finished dressing (which, since he was going through the most complex and boring points of the proposed deal in his head in an effort to get rid of his boner whilst he was dressing, took a little longer than usual). In the end they made it to the modern, glass and steel, skyscraper which housed Nakamura’s corporate headquarters with time to spare.

As they entered the lobby, Pete noticed another small group of suit-clad Westerners exiting the building who, if he had to guess, were also lawyers. Suddenly, for the first time, he began to have doubts about the deal he’d put together to represent Nakamura’s planned US branch of his corporation. ‘Old man’ Nakamura had a bit of a reputation of being xenophobic, but recently his company had been making inroads into Western markets, and it seemed they’d finally decided to set up an America-based branch, so Nakamura had been on the lookout for a Western law firm to hire. Rumour had it some family member – a son or grandson – had been behind the proposed expansion, against the old man’s ‘better judgement’. Pete had thought the deal in the bag for Pearce, Kane, and Hart – assuming he could sell it to the old man or, he’d rather hoped, whichever young relative had taken the initiative to go West in the first place. The presence of the other group of lawyers set alarms bells off in Pete’s head: if Nakamura was shopping around, then Pete’s deal suddenly seemed less like a certain win. He silently cursed getting distracted by all the antics with Kimberly when he could have been checking into the local situation at Nakamura... then mentally shrugged: what was done, was done, and it had hardly been a burden doing it, but now he needed to get his game head on. Taking Kimberly’s arm he stopped her to whisper into her ear,

‘This has just got a lot trickier...’

‘I thought those other guys looked like lawyers,’ she whispered back. Pete smiled – smart girl,

‘Right,’ he agreed, ‘Now, it’s an old trick, but don’t let on I speak Japanese, okay? Try to act... well... submissive and demure...’

‘It’ll be a stretch,’ quipped Kimberly, ‘but I’ll try.’

‘Hah!’ Pete snorted quietly, ‘Yeah, okay... just act your own perfect little self, I guess. I may have to change our game plan on the fly here,’ he explained, ‘depending on what is really going on.’

Kimberly nodded, and they proceeded to the reception desk where their details were taken, the gentleman receptionist apologised (in flawless English) that there would be a delay, and politely asked them to wait. Pete had suspected such a tactic, and took it with good grace. Sitting in the waiting area he quietly asked Kimberly to remain standing, just by his shoulder, and she silently agreed, perching there attentive and demure. After a minute or so, Pete feigned briefly flicking through the morning newspapers left on the table, then sent Kimberly over to the receptionist to politely inquire if they had any papers in English. She returned with an apologetic ‘no’, but Pete had expected that, and pantomimed a shrug as he sat back to wait. After a few minutes more, the Japanese reception staff began to talk quietly to each other, and Pete made sure not to react to anything they said, hoping they’d let slip something helpful. It took a while, but after Pete stretched, yawned out loud, then offered a too-loud apology, friendly wave, and his best gormless ‘uncivilised American’ grin, the staff seemed to relax as they started make comments and jokes amongst themselves, with little glances up at Pete and Kimberly every now and then.

Pete didn’t catch all of what was said, but he managed to get the gist: that Nakamura’s grandchild had set up the whole US thing, and that the old man had gone along to humour them, but was enjoying himself taunting, teasing, and generally insulting the many American law firms he’d invited over to pitch deals. It sounded like Nakamura put little stock in Westerners, Americans in particular, and thought them either weak, obnoxious, or both... but certainly stupid. Apparently the old man had also joked that Americans let their women boss them about, and that he’d know what to do with Western women to put them in their proper place. The beginnings of an idea began to form in Pete’s mind... but it was pretty drastic – it’d either prove the edge Pete needed to win the deal... or sink them before they started. A gamble – the sort Pete wasn’t keen on – and it depended on Kimberly being willing to play along... but he wasn’t seeing any better alternative as time was short, and he needed something to make him stand out from the herd...

After a while Pete and Kimberly were escorted to the elevator and up to the top floors of the tower... only to be left alone in another room to wait some more. Pete had expected such a tactic and, in fact, was counting on it, just as he was counting on the fact the room was probably wired with hidden cameras to observe them whilst they stewed. The room had no chairs – they were told it would be ‘just a minute’ – but had some lovely antique-looking Asian vases and other art pieces... just the sort of things for one to end up fiddling with and accidentally damaging when bored. Pete played the part he guessed was expected of him for a while, pacing the room, peering at the artworks without touching, with Kimberly dutifully following a few paces behind. After a little while, when it was clear they’d be waiting for a while, Pete decided to play his hand. Stepping close to Kimberly he whispered,

‘How’s your gag reflex?’

‘It’s... it’s pretty well-trained, Sir,’ she answered, sounding a little confused as she added, ‘although are you sure this is the right time to...’

‘Oh, it’s the right time,’ Pete replied, mentally adding an – I hope – to that, but not burdening Kimberly with that detail. Instead he whispered,

‘If I was to piss into your mouth, Kimberly, do you think you could swallow it without making a mess?’

‘Sir!’ Kimberly exclaimed, ‘I really don’t think...’

‘Just answer the question,’ Pete urged. Kimberly blinked, pouted, then shrugged,

‘Of course, Sir... Yes, in theory, I think I could do that, Sir... I’ve never tried, but drinking your piss this morning wasn’t too hard... technically speaking... and I can take a cock in my throat without gagging, so... yes... I suppose it’s possible...’

‘Would you do it right now?’ Pete asked. Kimberly frowned,

‘Sir? I’m not sure I understand what...’

‘I’m asking you to kneel on this carpet, tilt your head back, open your mouth, and swallow my piss as I urinate into you,’ Pete explained, a little more urgently, ‘and I’d rather not make a mess on out host’s rather nice carpet.’

‘Sir!’ Kimberly protested, although still in a whispered tone, ‘I don’t think that’s the sort of impression we want to...’

‘It’s exactly the sort of impression I’m trying to make here, Kimberly,’ Pete hissed back, ‘I can explain all the details later but, if you’re willing, I need you to do this now.’

Kimberly glanced about, as if checking for any passers-by, then looked at her feet, then finally nodded, in silence, chewing a little on her lower lip.

‘Good girl,’ Pete said, placing a hand on her shoulder and pressing down to guide her to her knees. For a moment the thought struck him that he was completely insane, and that it was probably hanging around the mad woman kneeing before him which had driven him so, but then he threw his last vestiges of caution to the wind as he squared up in front of her.

‘Better if you do the honours,’ he said quietly to Kimberly. Her face blushed red, the threat of tears at the corners of her eyes, Kimberly silently nodded again, then reached to undo Pete’s pants and fish out his cock. For a moment she just knelt staring at it, and Pete thought she was going to back out, but then she swallowed nervously, licked her lips, tilted her head back, closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and rested Pete’s cock on her lower lip. Trying to ignore the fact this was turning him on, Pete concentrated on doing his part and, slowly as he could at first, began to piss.

To begin with Pete watched as his urine quickly started to fill Kimberly’s welcoming mouth, and he started to feel a rising panic that she’d not be able to swallow it, would spit it everywhere, or vomit it up again; but then Kimberly began to swallow.

‘Good girl,’ Pete murmured, ‘that’s it... keep going...’

Kimberly seemed to begin to swallow easier, and Pete found he could increase his flow, until she was gulping down everything he could offer. Eventually Pete was dry. Kimberly shook off his cock, quickly dabbed at the tip with her tongue, then closed her mouth, licked her lips, and glanced up at him. He offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but the look she shot back wasn’t a happy one. Still, she replaced his cock in his pants, straightened up his clothes, then gracefully stood again, popping a couple of breath mints into her mouth, all without a word of complaint. Pete marvelled that she’d managed the whole operation without spilling a drop, and made a mental note to express his thanks when they’d gotten through the coming meeting (if they weren’t about to be ejected from the building for their behaviour) and he had a chance to explain his hastily calculated strategy. It was less than a minute before a smartly dressed young Japanese man appeared, and Pete found himself involuntarily holding a breath as he waiting to hear if his tactic had ruined their chances at making the deal or not...

‘Mister Nakamura,’ the young man began, politely...

Pete glanced at Kimberly, hoping he hadn’t put her through that for nothing (as, under the circumstances, Pete hadn’t felt able to even enjoy it much on a personal level), and worrying that if he’d caught Nakamura’s eye then he could well be leading her into worse still...

... ‘will see you now.’

‘Mister Goode,’ the attractive young Japanese lady who greeted them in Nakamura’s office offered Pete a handshake before he could attempt to practice his formal bowing technique; a technique he realised was considered pretty sub-par, but that the local businessmen he’d met with in the past usually seemed to appreciate when he at least made the effort. That he wasn’t being given the opportunity to score even such small points worried him, but he tried not to let it show. That the young lady’s tone and expression (despite her attempts to sound neutral) already seemed hostile, worried him more. Pete shook her hand with his best firm, but not crushing, well-practiced businessman’s handshake. The lady cast a rather withering glance towards Kimberly, but made no attempt to greet her. For her part, Pete was pleased to note that Kimberly remained dutifully a little behind his left shoulder, demurely waiting with her eyes towards the floor. He wasn’t sure if she fell naturally into the role, or was just good at playing it, but hoped that she, at least, would make the right impression. The Japanese lady gestured for them to follow her over to one side of Nakamura’s huge office, where a suite of leather sofas and chairs were arranged around a low glass coffee table,

‘My grandfather will join us momentarily,’ the young lady explained as they stepped over, and Pete quickly went through his mental notes on Nakamura and his family, concluding that this must be his eldest granddaughter Mitsuko. He’d heard something about Mitsuko Nakamura insisting on joining the family business, despite her grandfather’s rather archaic views on women in the workplace, but he’d not considered the possibility that she may be the grandchild who’d been spearheading the corporate expansion into America. After all, Nakamura had, at last count, a dozen or so grandsons working for him, and a big project like taking the company West seemed more than the old man would have offered a woman, even his own flesh-and-blood, considering how low he set his glass ceiling. Something was definitely going on which Pete hadn’t figured into the equation yet, and he realised that he’d need to think on his feet if he were to have any chance of securing the deal to represent Nakamura’s legal interests in the States.

Pete inwardly forced himself not to panic... not just yet, anyway. Listen, observe, and try to figure out what the score was here – that was the way he had to play it. He started by taking a closer look at Mitsuko Nakamura. Petite and slender, he knew she was in her mid twenties, but to his Western eyes seemed younger. She had long, straight, raven-black hair, and black eyes which, now Pete considered them, were really very attractive; in fact, once he’d forced his concern about the deal aside for a brief moment, Miss Nakamura was actually quite gorgeous. She was dressed in a Western influenced style: short, tight, black skirt to mid-thigh, a high-collared white blouse, a trim black jacket, and black heels – not as high as Kimberly’s usual six-inchers, but enough to add some nice definition to the young lady’s legs, which were bare and, Pete found himself imagining, silky-smooth...

‘Miss Nakamura,’ Pete offered her a smile as he accepted her offer of a seat, and she followed suit. Kimberly remained standing quietly by Pete’s arm. Mitsuko didn’t return the smile and, in fact, Pete thought she turned her head away from him slightly to hide the beginnings of a sneer. Pete wracked his brains as to why Nakamura’s granddaughter seemed so disgusted by him: he’d never met her before, that he recalled (and he was pretty sure he’d remember meeting someone that good looking), and by all accounts she was considered something of a black sheep in the family due to her outspoken praise for Western society – or, at least, aspects of it – so it didn’t seem likely she’d just hate him on principle or anything... Suddenly Pete’s eyes widened and he faked a gentle cough so he could look away from her for a few moments as it dawned on him that, perhaps, his earlier plan had worked, that his relieving himself into Kimberly’s dutifully proffered mouth had been caught on some hidden camera... and that Mitsuko Nakamura had been watching! Pete felt, for a moment, that the floor had vanished beneath him: if Mitsuko was, indeed, the one spearheading the move West, then both the old man and she would have to sign the deal. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to get Nakamura senior to sign, how on Earth was he going to convince this progressive young lady to employ his company after she’d witnessed the manner in which he treated Kimberly? He was almost relived when the old man himself finally arrived as he told himself: one hurdle at a time, Pet old boy, one hurdle at a time.

Nakamura senior was well into his sixties, but seemed to be fit, strong, and healthy for all that. His head was shaved bald, but he sported a white goatee which came to a neat point an inch or so beneath his chin. He stood a couple of inches shorter than Pete, although he seemed solidly built and radiated an aura of confidence which gave him instant dominance of the room the moment he entered. Like his granddaughter, Nakamura was dressed in a Western-influenced business suit which, along with aspects of his office and the corporate headquarters as a whole, told Pete that, for all his reputation, at least the old man wasn’t so anti-Westerner that he languished in the past. From his research and his first impressions on meeting the man, if Pete had to guess he’d have said that Nakamura was first and foremost a businessman, the whole cultural-snobbery thing, if true, being something which he could indulge in because of his success, not in spite of it. Pete hoped that boded well for his own chances of getting the signature he needed... he stole a quick glance at Mitsuko and corrected himself... one of the signatures he needed, anyway...

This time Pete was quick enough to get his best efforts in first standing (he hoped not so rapidly as to appear frightened or comical) and bowing as best as he was able. Nakamura’s expression remained stony and unreadable, although he barely glanced at Pete before his gaze moved to take in a bowing Kimberly. Eventually the old man nodded the briefest of bows in return – pretty near the insulting mark Pete judged or, at least, patronising – then sat. Taking his cue, Pete rose from his bow, then sat himself, as Kimberly returned to her quiet, submissive, stance by his side. Pete was suddenly more grateful than ever to have her there in the symbolic role she’d been cast in – he had to admit that Nakamura was an intimidating presence, and having Kimberly by his side he felt went some small way to evening the odds.

Once formal greetings were out of the way, they got down to the nitty-gritty of the business at hand, Pete trying to sell the benefits of signing a deal with Pearce, Kane, and Hart, and the Nakamuras trying their best to pull the thing apart. They talked in English, with Mitsuko translating for her grandfather, even though Pete spoke Japanese and his research told him that old man Nakamura spoke perfectly good English too – but it was an aspect of the game, so Pete went along with it. It was several hours later when things looked like they were nearing the end-game. Pete thought it had gone well, despite the many attempts to pick holes in the proposal by Nakamura senior in particular. When refreshments had been offered, Kimberly had quickly acted to bring them over and serve, without being asked, which seemed to score some points with the old man, even if Mitsuko didn’t seem too impressed. Trying to strike a balance as best he could, Pete had made sure to ask Kimberly for clarification on a point of detail or two, which she’d been able to offer concisely and without hesitation, which he thought prompted both Nakamuras to look at her in a new light, but without taking away Pete’s own obvious dominance over her. Not for the first time he mused that if he had Dominic Hardman’s gift for reading people he’d have the deal signed and already be on a plane back to the States, but as far as Pete could tell at least he hadn’t completely ruined his own chances yet. Old man Nakamura definitely seemed interested in Kimberly, as Pete caught him openly looking her over more than once, which seemed to make Kimberly a little nervous... although that too appeared to please the old man. Mitsuko, on the other hand, seemed to be having a hard time hiding little scowls of disapproval whenever she caught her grandfather looking at Kimberly: Pete knew Nakamura’s wife, Mitsuko’s grandmother, had passed years before, and that the old man never re-married, but thought he could understand why Mitsuko wasn’t likely to approve. Eventually old man Nakamura slapped his belly and grinned,

‘I need a piss!’ he declared in Japanese, either not realising Pete understood, or not caring. Mitsuko scowled again, but didn’t translate. The old man laughed and nudged her, looking at Kimberly as he added, ‘Maybe I should use the American’s toilet, eh?’

Mitsuko’s frown deepened,

‘Grandfather!’ she exclaimed, still speaking in Japanese, ‘I hardly think that is appropriate!’

The old man offered her a teasing smile, but before he could reply, Pete made a snap decision,

‘I respectfully agree with your granddaughter, Sir,’ he said, in his best Japanese. Mitsuko looked shocked, but the old man didn’t seem surprised in the least... not until Pete continued, ‘Kimberly is contracted to serve Pearce, Kane, and Hart... and our honoured clients... to offer her services to anyone else would not be appropriate.’

Both Nakamuras stared at Pete for a long moment... then the old man burst out laughing,

‘I like you, Mister Goode,’ he declared in heavily accented English, ‘not many Westerners know how to treat women in the workplace!’

Mitsuko snorted, pouted, folded her arms across her chest and turned away. Her grandfather offered her a mock expression of sympathy and patted her knee,

‘You excluded, child,’ he told her, in Japanese, ‘of course.’

It didn’t seem to do much to mollify Mitsuko, but her grandfather let her pout and turned back to Pete. Gesturing towards Kimberly he asked, in English,

‘If I sign your deal, you will let me piss in your woman’s mouth?’

Pete noticed Kimberly’s eyes widen, a blush of colour rise to her cheeks. He tried to feel guilty, but couldn’t help thinking that, whether she’d admit it or not, Kimberly was probably getting a buzz out of the situation. To Mister Nakamura he replied, also sticking to English – for Kimberly’s benefit if nothing else,

‘Kimberly is a valued employee of Pearce, Kane, and Hart, not a slave, her terms of service include a sexual activities clause: while I can’t force her to do anything, I can certainly allow her to do some work for you and, based on past experiences, Sir, she is both willing and reasonably capable when it comes to all sorts of interesting acts.’

Pete noticed Kimberly shoot him a withering glance when he used the qualifier ‘reasonably’, but kept quiet on the point. She did, however, politely say to Mister Nakamura,

‘If you are in good health, Sir, I would be happy to...’ her blush deepened and her gaze was fixed firmly on her shoes, as she swallowed nervously, licked her lips, and continued, ‘... drink your urine, if that is what you would like, Sir.’

Nakamura laughed,

‘That and much more, little girl,’ he retorted. Kimberly nodded,

‘As Mister Goode so... helpfully... pointed out, I am open to performing many different sexual acts as part of my contract, Sir. I only request that you explain what you’d like and ask me beforehand, so as to avoid any... unfortunate... misunderstandings.’

‘Of course,’ Nakamura replied, still grinning, ‘we are a civilised nation, after all.’

Pete ignored what he imagined was meant as a side-long snipe at America and, putting on his most reasonable-looking smile, indicated the paperwork lying on the coffee table and offered old man Nakamura a pen,

‘There’s just the formality of...’ he began. Nakamura glanced at his granddaughter, then gave Pete a rather sly look and took the pen,

‘Yes, yes,’ he agreed, sounding just a little too pleased with himself for Pete’s liking; but he signed all the same, and declared, ‘all done. Now, young lady, if you would be so kind as to come with me..?’ he stood and held out his hand to Kimberly. For her part she looked at Pete. For a moment Pete had a sinking feeling that he’d made a huge mistake, but it was a little too late for that sort of thinking, so he nodded. Kimberly gave Pete one last, nervous, look, then headed through a door in the back of the office with Nakamura.

For several long moments Pete sat in silence with Mitsuko Nakamura, until she finally turned to him,

‘You do realise my grandfather thinks you’re an idiot?’ she asked. Pete inwardly winced a little, but had been expecting something like it realising, as he did, that the hard part – for him, at least – was only just beginning,

‘You mean that you have to sign the deal too?’ he replied. He felt a tiny moment of victory as he noted the expression of surprise which passed quickly over Mitsuko’s face,

‘I... yes,’ she confirmed; then her expression hardened again as she continued, ‘and he’s sure I won’t sign, after witnessing the way you treat women.’

‘The way I treat Kimberly,’ Pete corrected.

‘What difference does it make?’ she asked. Pete fixed her with a stare,

‘Kimberly is contracted to be treated that way.’

‘You used her as a human toilet!’ exclaimed Mitsuko with obvious disgust.

‘Yes,’ Pete saw no point in denying it.

‘You get off on pissing on women?’ Mitsuko appeared to be building herself into a righteous anger... an anger Pete realised he’d have happily joined her in only a couple of days before.

‘I enjoy getting Kimberly to drink my piss,’ he countered, as evenly as he could, ‘although I admit my mind wasn’t really on the enjoyment of it when I pissed in her mouth in the waiting room. I can’t say whether I’d enjoy that sort of thing with other women or not: it was a dark fantasy of mine, and now I’ve tried it. Maybe it’s out of my system? I don’t know, really. I know I’d not enjoy it... or even want to attempt it... with a woman who wasn’t willing. Appearances aside, I’m not a monster, Miss Nakamura.’

‘That’s debateable,’ she pouted.

‘Obviously,’ Pete agreed. She fell silent again. After a few moments, Pete found himself looking towards the door old man Nakamura and Kimberly had exited through,

‘He... he won’t hurt her, will he?’ he asked Mitsuko, the genuine concern he was feeling coming through in his tone despite his best efforts to sound casual. Mitsuko scowled,

‘What do you care?’

‘I care,’ he replied, quietly.

‘Do...’ Mitsuko gave him a suspicious look, ‘... do you love her?’

‘I...’ Pete trailed off. It was an interesting question. He was certainly still attracted to Kimberly, and liked her company, even without the whole sexual service thing, and he’d caught himself pondering that very same question over the last couple of days, but in the end..?

‘... No,’ he admitted, ‘she’s a valued colleague, as I said, and I’d like to think she’s a friend, or at least could be, but... no; I don’t think I love her. She’s allowed me to explore some of my darker fantasies, helped me ditch a bunch of inhibitions I’m pretty sure were going to give me an ulcer or something before I hit thirty-five but I don’t think we’re right for each other, romantically.’

‘So now you’ve had your way with her, you just pass her off to the next man in line?’ accused Mitsuko. Pete smiled and shrugged,

‘Yeah, well,’ he admitted, ‘I guess there’s an element of that too... I’m still a guy, after all.’

‘Yes...’ Mitsuko agreed, as if condemning him. There was another brief silence, then she quietly spoke,

‘He won’t hurt her,’ she said, sounding almost wistful as she kept her gaze averted from Pete, ‘or, at least, he won’t damage her. Any hurts I imagine she’ll enjoy...’

Pete felt his brow furrow as he tried to understand what she was saying,

‘I... ah... I don’t think she’s a masochist...’ he offered, a little weakly – if he were being honest, he had no idea if Kimberly got off on being hurt or not, ‘... what... um... what sort of thing do you think he’s going to do to her?’

Mitsuko shrugged,

‘Humiliate her, of course... he seems to like doing that to Western women...’ she glanced up at Pete, ‘... you’re hardly the first foreign businessman to offer my grandfather a whore.’

‘Kimberly’s not exactly a whore...’ Pete replied, Mitsuko brushed the comment aside,

‘Whatever... Seeing you use her as a toilet seemed to get him excited anyway. Besides that he’ll tie her up...’ she frowned a little, ‘... do you know what a “kinbakukushi” is?’ Pete admitted that he didn’t,

‘It’s a master of rope bondage,’ Mitsuko explained, ‘my grandfather is very skilled... an artist. His bindings can be comfortable or uncomfortable, painful or erotic...’ she trailed off. Something in her tone peaked Pete’s curiosity. Knowing he probably shouldn’t ask, he threw caution to the wind,

‘You... ah...’ he replied, trying to choose his words carefully, ‘... you sound like you’re speaking from experience...’

Mitsuko starred at him in silence for a moment, reminding Pete of Kimberly and her ‘decision making pauses’, before she finally shrugged,

‘I’ve often been a subject for grandfather’s art, yes,’ she admitted.

Feeling he was digging his own grave, but unable not to, Pete asked,

‘You said it could be... um... erotic? Did he ever... ah...’

Mitsuko frowned,

‘No, Mister Goode,’ she retorted, sounding a little annoyed, ‘my grandfather has never sexually abused me, if that’s what you’re asking. No...’ her tone softened again, once more sounding to Pete, if anything, wistful, ‘... it’s an intensely intimate experience, and I love the old man dearly, but it’s never like that.’

‘Right,’ Pete felt himself breathing a sigh of relief, ‘good. So... if you, ah, don’t mind me asking... when was the last time he... um... bound you?’

Pete recalled seeing pictures of Japanese rope bondage – ‘kinbaku’ or ‘shibari’ or something – and found himself unable to resist picturing Mitsuko Nakamura nude and bound in one of those artistic and erotic scenes. She looked at him in silence for a few moments more, then smiled a little,

‘I’m bound in about seven meters of rope right now, Mister Goode,’ she answered, her smile widening as she couldn’t fail to miss the expression of shock on Pete’s face which he was pretty sure was making him look like a gormless idiot. She seemed to enjoy letting him fail to form a coherent sentence to ask another question for a few moments, then finally had pity on him,

‘I’m in a basic “kikkou” variant binding under my clothes,’ she explained, gesturing to her own body as she spoke, ‘the rope goes round my neck, the two sides down my front, then under my crotch, round my thighs, and up my back again, passing repeatedly across my sides to lace through and pull the parallel lengths of rope down my front apart into a three-diamond pattern.’

‘Ah...’ Pete knew he was staring, his mind’s-eye trying to X-ray through her clothes even as his mouth went dry and the temperature seemed to rise a few degrees, ‘... over your underwear?’

‘The rope’s as close to underwear as I ever get,’ she explained, seeming to relax more the more agitated Pete was getting, ‘grandfather prefers to bind me whenever I’m with him... from the basic body binding it’s easy to further restrain my extremities if... well... if I get too disrespectful, or need some quiet time... I’m afraid I’m considered something of the wild-child of the family, Mister Goode, and my grandfather is the firm hand I need.’

Pete felt himself hardening and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, crossing his legs as casually as he could, even though he knew it was pretty obvious why he was doing so. Mitsuko seemed to be revelling in his discomfort, and for a moment he wondered if she were making the whole thing up... but then wondered if it really mattered all that much or not – his imagination seemed to be filling in any blanks just fine anyway...

‘Of course,’ Mitsuko continued, sounding completely casual now, as if she were discussing the weather, ‘when grandfather isn’t about, I tie myself into a kikkou – I just don’t feel right without the ropes digging into me, you know?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ admitted Pete, ‘but I’d be interested in learning more...’

‘More tea, Mister Goode?’ she asked brightly, changing the subject. Pete nodded and watched as she got up and walked to a side table to prepare a fresh pot, finding himself trying to detect a hint of the ropes allegedly beneath her clothes, but failing completely. He considered asking her to show him, but despite her seeming open to discussing the subject, realised that such a request would likely be a little beyond the pale, especially considering her comment about not wearing any other underwear. But try as he may he couldn’t drop the subject,

‘Is it...’ he thought how best to phrase his question, ‘... I mean, is it comfortable? The ropes you’re... um... is “wearing” the right term?.. now?’

Mitsuko paused in her tea-making,

‘I don’t think “comfortable” is the right word... “stimulating” maybe...’

‘Really?’ asked Pete, unsure exactly what she meant.

‘Oh yes, Mister Goode,’ she replied, ‘when I’ve not misbehaved, grandfather even ties an extra knot which sits right on my clitoris; it’s actually rather wonderful.’

Pete considered pointing out that that seemed pretty close to a sexual aspect to her grandfather tying her up, at least as far as Pete could tell, but wisely kept it to himself. After the past couple of days with Kimberly, who was he to judge anyway?

‘So... I take it you’ve been a good girl today then?’ he asked, failing to suppress a half-smile. Mitsuko returned and handed him his tea,

‘Well, I’m having a hard time even staying mad at you, Mister Goode, so what do you think?’ she beamed back. Pete nodded in silence and sipped his tea.

‘Forgive me for saying,’ Pete asked after a few moments, ‘but I thought you were keen to break through the glass ceiling, to promote woman as equals in the workplace?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Mitsuko, sipping her own tea.

‘Well,’ Pete reflected cautiously, trying not to offend her, ‘you can see how the whole getting tied up by your grandfather thing could be taken as sort-of being in the opposite direction...’

‘Not at all, Mister Goode,’ she replied evenly, ‘you of all people should appreciate that the one thing doesn’t take anything away from the other. From what you’ve said, and despite what you clearly chose to allow my grandfather to believe, you don’t think that all women should be treated the same way you treat... Kimberly was it? You also don’t appear to believe that one unusual aspect to her employment makes her any worse at the rest of her job. Just because I need to be tied up you don’t think I’d want to impose that on all women, do you? Or that my need makes me any less proficient at my job?’

Pete thought about it for a moment. Aspects of his world view had certainly been turned around the last couple of days: a week ago he’d have thought there was something wrong with her (just as he’d thought his own darker fantasies meant there was something wrong with him), but now... Now what she was saying sounded completely reasonable,

‘No, you’re right,’ agreed Pete... then something in the way she’d phrased her last statement got him thinking. Reflecting on their conversation so far as he looked at her, he decided to go for broke,

‘So... you said you “need” to be tied up?’

‘I...’ it seemed as though some of her bravado fled a little as she averted her gaze from him and, after a pause, replied in a quiet voice, ‘... yes. It... it grounds me, I guess, makes me feel secure. Even when grandfather binds me in an uncomfortable position, there’s an element which is relaxing, just knowing there’s someone else in control. I guess it’s my way of relieving the stress and pressures of the job.’

‘I think I understand,’ Pete replied, genuinely feeling as though he was at least beginning to. He almost hated playing his next card after that, it seemed a little cruel, but he guessed he had to be cruel to be kind, as the saying went, and he needed to push things forwards.

‘So,’ he began, as if changing the subject, ‘if you sign the deal you’ll be moving to America, yes? You’ll be heading up the new division of the company?’

‘Yes,’ Mitsuko nodded, ‘I’ve been working towards that goal for years. Grandfather has only gone along with the thing at all because I managed to win the support of the board, who agree that we need to look towards the future and our international prospects. He’s convinced I’ll end up falling flat on my face and then, finally, will have gotten this silly idea of trying to be a businesswoman out of my head and settle down with an appropriately chosen husband from a good family and start popping out babies. Still, he needed to show willing, so allowed everything to be set into motion. To cover himself with the board he needed to sign off on a deal with at least one American law firm, and when we watched the CCTV of you using your... Kimberly... as a human toilet, I’m sure he was convinced it was his opportunity to do so, safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t sign with a firm who treated their female employees in such a manner. Asking Kimberly to go do those things with him right in front of me was, at least in part, his way of making sure I was so disgusted by you both that I’d never sign and will have proven him right all along.’

‘And now?’ asked Pete, ‘Are you still disgusted by us?’

Mitsuko looked at him,

‘Yes, to be honest,’ she admitted, then added, ‘but at least I think I understand you more now.’

Pete was willing to take whatever he could get,

‘That’s fair,’ he agreed, ‘so this may be your only real chance to move your project forwards?’

‘Maybe,’ she replied, sounding a little reluctant, ‘but I’m still not sure...’

‘What I think you’re not sure of is if you want to move away from your grandfather,’ Pete interrupted. Mitsuko shot him an annoyed stare, and Pete thought that maybe he’d misjudged, but couldn’t see an alternative to pressing on, so continued, ‘which only makes sense. The two of you obviously share an intimate relationship that not everyone would understand, and you’re worried you’ll lose that if you move away. While I can’t speak to that, and wouldn’t think of suggesting anyone could replace your grandfather, I can at least assure you that, if you sign with Pearce, Kane, and Hart, you’ll know that there’ll be one person close at hand who, if nothing else, understands what you need.’

Mitsuko’s eyes widened a little,

‘Mister Goode,’ she replied, ‘are you offering to tie me up?’

Pete shot her his warmest smile,

‘I’m offering whatever support you need, Miss Nakamura. I’ll admit that the idea of binding you is... well, if I’m being honest, it’s sending my hormones into overdrive right now... I’m a complete amateur, of course, and could never hope to compete with a master like your grandfather, but if that’s what you want of me I solemnly swear to do my best to learn. I can only imagine it’ll be a most enjoyable road to enlightenment.’

For a few terrifying heartbeats Mitsuko seemed undecided... then she smiled,

‘And what would you do with me once you had me bound, Mister Goode?’ she asked politely. Myriad thoughts ran through Pete’s brain, but the realisation hit him that, while experimenting with Kimberly was fun, with Mitsuko he found himself hoping for more than a ‘fuck buddy’ to play around with. He was imagining binding her and spanking her, yes, and of course making love to her... but he also wanted to hold her in his arms as they slept, to cheer her up when she was upset, to take care of her and have her take care of him, to share a kiss filled with promise and passion and trust and love... Pete realised he was getting ahead of himself. Smiling, he passed her a pen and the paperwork,

‘How about we close one negotiation before we start another?’ he asked.

It was a couple of weeks after their successful trip to Japan and winning the Nakamura account that Pete next bumped into Kimberly alone, after hours, in the break room. She was sitting sipping a coffee and nibbling at a muffin when he popped in,

‘Mister Goode,’ she looked up and him and smiled, ‘I hear they’re still talking about your success with Nakamura up on the twenty-eighth floor.’

‘Our success, Kimberly,’ he gently chided her; she blushed a little and looked down at her coffee,

‘I really didn’t do anything, Sir, I...’

‘Nonsense,’ Pete interrupted, ‘you helped to make me a new man!’

‘I’m sure women everywhere will be thanking me for that,’ she teased. Pete grinned,

‘Well, I’m thanking you, Kimberly; and what you did to get Nakamura on side...’ he trailed off, then asked, ‘... what did you two get up to in the end?’

‘Mister Goode,’ she replied with a slight, pantomimed, frown, ‘you know I can’t discuss...’

‘Oh, yes,’ Pete nodded sagely, ‘I forgot: quite right too... after all, there are aspects of what you and I did together that I’d not want to be public knowledge.’

‘Only aspects?’ Kimberly teased. Pete winked at her,

‘Well, you know it’s technically illegal to make love in the bathroom of an airplane, right?’

Kimberly giggled. Pete gestured towards the muffin she was picking at,

‘New diet?’

Kimberly looked up at him, then down at the muffin,

‘Oh, no,’ she replied absent-mindedly, ‘I’ve been doing some work for Mister Pressman, and he recommended these – he’s right, they really are quite good.’

‘Fat Larry Pressman?’ Pete asked, a little taken aback, ‘Hardman lent you to him?’

‘Mister Pressman doesn’t appreciate comments about his weight,’ Kimberly retorted, with a frown, ‘and after our trip to Tokyo Mister Hardman has seen fit to lend my services to other staff members on a more regular basis. Mister Pressman is defending a client against a former employee who has hired Miss Tabitha Swann to represent her in a threatened lawsuit, and Mister Hardman thought it would do Mister Pressman’s confidence good to have a woman sitting on his side of the table.’

‘I know Swann,’ Pete mused, ‘yeah... she’s a shark alright, not to mention good-looking, and knows how to use it against guys like F... like Larry.’

‘Mister Pressman is an excellent lawyer,’ Kimberly observed, ‘but hasn’t had much success with the opposite sex...’

‘So are you just sitting there looking pretty, or are you offering any other services to our Larry?’

‘I’m helping with the case,’ retorted Kimberly, ‘as to the details... you know I can’t discuss those, Sir.’

‘I know,’ Pete pushed a little, his curiosity getting the better of him, ‘but come on... Larry is massive, and the way he sweats... Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy, but you and him..? You couldn’t enjoy that...’

Kimberly fixed him with a forceful stare,

‘Mister Hardman made sure to inform Mister Pressman of all the types of work I can provide,’ she said, evenly, ‘and recommended that he take advantage of that. As you know, Sir, it isn’t about what I like...’

‘I think I get that now,’ Pete replied, suddenly a little more serious. He’d thought about it a lot since Japan, about Kimberly’s position, about his own wants and needs, and more than a little about Miss Mitsuko Nakamura, rope, and her upcoming move to the States. Looking Kimberly in the eye, he continued, ‘I have a theory, Kimberly. There are three types of work. A “job” is something you do because you need money to live, whether you hate doing it or not. A “career” is something you plan on doing, a goal you set yourself, but isn’t necessarily what you love: it’s a means to an end, be that end making money or getting into a position you promised yourself you’d get into or whatever. A “calling”... well, a calling is when you’re lucky enough that the work you do is both what you love and what you’re good at. Personally I think only a rare few find their calling, at least for the majority of their lives. I think you’ve found your calling, Kimberly. I think you love your work – the service you provide – even if you don’t necessarily enjoy the individual acts which make up that service. So, yes, I agree... it’s not about what you like, because you like doing what others want you to.’

Kimberly stared at him in silence for a very long time. Finally she quietly replied,

‘You may be right,’ she turned her gaze back to the surface of her coffee, ‘I... I don’t really know myself. Some days I think I’ve got it all figured out, then something will come along and turn the whole thing on its head again. I thought I wanted to serve Mister Hardman at one point, even that I... well,’ she shrugged and smiled a little, ‘... it sounds crazy to say it now, but even that I loved him. But now he’s... I don’t know... “pushed me from the nest” I guess... I look back and realise what I’d have been missing if I’d have just remained working exclusively for him. Maybe I do love him a little... but if that’s the case, I guess I love you all... even fat Mister Pressman, smelly Mister Smallwood, and...’ she glanced up at Pete with a sly little smile playing on her lips, ‘... yes, even bad Mister Goode. So yes... maybe this is my calling, to be a... well, my friend Sarah says my job title should be “office slut”.’

Pete grinned,

‘I’ll see what I can do to get than changed for you.’

Kimberly winced a little,

‘I didn’t mean... I wasn’t suggesting... I...’ she trailed off, sighed, and smiled, instead simply saying, ‘yes, Mister Goode, of course.’

‘Well,’ Pete declared, ‘all I know is that you’re the best little office slut I’ve ever had the very great pleasure of working with.’

‘Thank you, Sir,’ Kimberly replied with a smile. They sat in silence for a moment or two, then she glanced up at him and asked quietly,

‘You... you don’t think I’m insane, do you? To do this? To like doing this?’

‘Quite the opposite,’ Pete replied, ‘I’ve been thinking about this a lot...’ he caught her raised eyebrow, and quickly backpedalled, ‘...well, a bit anyway... and I think the insane ones are the people do what they think society expects of them, instead of what they know, deep down, in their hearts they want to do. You know the type: people who get married to partners they don’t really get on with, just because they think if they’re not married by thirty they’re failures, and they’re scared if they break it off they’ll never find someone else. Then they have kids, because that’s what people are expected to do too, then they stick together for the sake of the children, even though whatever spark they had in their relationship fizzled years before... and by the time they get divorced and finally find themselves again they realise they’ve missed a big chunk of their lives.’

‘So...’ Kimberly reflected, ‘... you’re not a family man?’

‘I... no, that’s not the point,’ Pete frowned a little, ‘what I’m saying is that if you really want all that stuff, then go for it... but don’t devote your life to it in some effort to match the statistical norms of society.’

‘So you’re an anarchist?’

‘You’re teasing me now,’ chided Pete. Kimberly looked at him through her long lashes and sipped her coffee,

‘Little bit,’ she admitted. Pete chuckled,

‘No, I’m not an anarchist. Society is necessary: God knows most of us need some framework to hang our lives on, but... you know when they ask kids “what do you want to be when you grow up?”... well some of us aren’t the kids who have an answer ready to hand: we learn to make something up, because that’s what adults like to hear, but sometimes your path in life...’

‘Your calling?’ offered Kimberly, helpfully. Pete rolled his eyes a little,

‘So sue me, I’m not a philosophy major! But yeah, I guess, not all of us have a calling or even a career in mind... so yes, society’s norms can help as a starting point, but I suppose I’m saying that you shouldn’t let it take over your life. You’ve done that, Kimberly, you’ve followed the system through the way we’re all expected to, but you had the courage to take a path better suited when the opportunity arose. I don’t think many people would do that. That doesn’t make you insane, it makes you brave.’

‘You make me sound like a hero,’ Kimberly replied, quietly. Pete shrugged,

‘What law says you can’t have a submissive hero?’ Kimberly sighed, Pete chuckled, ‘You’re not convinced, are you?’

‘You lawyers,’ Kimberly waved at him with a dismissive gesture, ‘you’re all alike: you want to close everything, finish it all neatly. I don’t think you can do that with life, no matter how pretty your summation. Life’s a process, not a goal... getting there is all the fun.’

‘Now who’s a philosopher,’ retorted Pete. Kimberly shrugged and picked at her muffin for a little, then picked up the plate and offered it to Pete,

‘Would you like to cum on this, Sir?’ she asked, ‘For old time’s sake?’

Pete laughed,

‘Actually, Kimberly, if you’re offering to do a little overtime for me, then there’s something else I had in mind... I never did get to face-fuck you in Tokyo: any chance I could try that now?’

Kimberly had one of her ‘thoughtful’ pauses, then nodded, stepped out of her seat, and sank gracefully to her knees in front of Pete.

‘You don’t have to ask Hardman?’ Pete inquired, kicking himself for even bringing up the possibility. Kimberly looked up at him over the top of her glasses and through her lashes,

‘No, Sir... I don’t think I need to do that anymore.’

‘So you’re a real office slut now, Kimberly?’ Pete asked. In response, Kimberly opened up his pants and pulled out his cock, massaging, licking, and kissing it erect,

‘Yes, Sir,’ she murmured, then glanced up at Pete, and placed her hands behind her back, ‘your tie, Sir?’ she asked.

‘I... I didn’t ask you to do that, Kimberly,’ Pete replied, a little uncertain. Kimberly smiled,

‘I know, Sir, but I know you like me tied... and it is about what you want, Sir.’

Pete started to reply... then stopped. Pete old boy – he mentally berated himself – this is not a point you want to argue with the lady on! With a grin and a nod, Pete soon had his tie off and Kimberly’s wrist bound behind her back. By the time he was positioned in front of her again, he was as rock hard as ever. He slid the fingers of both hand through Kimberly’s long brunette hair, and held on tightly to the back of her head. She moistened her lips with her tongue, then sensuously parted them, allowing Pete, with a thrust and a satisfied grunt, to ram his cock home. To Pete’s delight when he was thrust to the hilt in her mouth, he felt the tip of her tongue lapping softly at his ball sack. As he began thrusting in and out, feeling his cock head ram into the constriction of her throat, he closed his eyes and murmured,

‘An office slut... how did I ever live without one?’