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OUR NON-BONDAGE EROTICA LIBRARIES ARE BACK WITH SOME GREAT TITLES!
AN OFFICE TALE
Freddie Clegg
3 RATINGS
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REVIEWS
Story of woman getting her boss into a compromising situation and using it to her advantage. Non-consensual, FemDom, humiliation, etc. Not particularly erotic.
2/5- fmp
Product Type:
EBook
Price:
$5.95
Published by:
Strict Publishing Intl.
No. words:
31000
Categories:
Fem Dom - F/M
Published
10 / 2006
AVAILABLE FORMATS: MSWord (DOC) PDF MSReader (LIT) Text RTF
SYNOPSIS
Mr Lewis is an office manager with an eye for the ladies. In fact, he as so much of an eye for the ladies that many of the young women in his office consider his behaviour to be nothing short of harassment. He carries on regardless, until he makes the mistake of employing Jennifer who is not slow to start to show him the error of his ways. Mr Lewis’s particular preferences for Internet viewing soon provide Jennifer with the ammunition she needs for a little blackmail, and Mr Lewis finds himself at her mercy in more ways than one – and Jennifer is not inclined to be particularly merciful!
This first e-book by Freddie Clegg is not only a cautionary tale for men with an urge to harass the women at work, but may prove to be more than a little instructive for any woman being harassed. As the principal character, Mr Lewis, finds himself sliding further and further under Jennifer’s control, her own particular sexual tastes and those of some of the other women in the office begin to come to the surface, with unfortunate consequences for Mr Lewis.
EXTRACT
A woman came into the room. She was smartly dressed, wearing a rather conservative
business suit but with an elaborate feathered mask disguising her face. She said nothing
as she looked at me lying helpless on the bed in front of her. I watched as she put her
handbag down on the dressing table and took off her dark green jacket to reveal a matching
waistcoat and a pale green silk shirt beneath. She hung the jacket neatly across the back
of one of the chairs and followed it with the waistcoat. She turned around for a moment to
face me, presenting a bizarre image with the feathered mask and her otherwise conventional
outfit. She smiled beneath the mask.
She unzipped her skirt and took it off, placing it neatly on top of the jacket. She
wriggled her slip down over her hips and added it to the clothes on the chair. She walked
across the bed and stood beside me. She reached down and unfastened my gag. As she pulled
it from my mouth she placed a finger on my lips to indicate that I should stay silent.
I worked my jaw for a moment, glad that the uncomfortable ball had been removed.
She ran her fingers up my arms to where the handcuffs fastened my wrists to the bed’s
head rail. She squeezed each cuff in turn to close it more tightly, shaking her head in
reproach as she did so at what she obviously considered was my slackness.
She climbed up onto the bed and knelt astride me, her back towards my face. She leaned
forward. I felt her fingers run down across my belly towards my crotch and then felt her
grip the tube imprisoning my penis. All I could see of her was the tail of her shirt and,
beneath it, the dark triangle of a black thong visible through the tan tights she was
wearing. She giggled as my caged cock stiffened in response and then slid her backside
backwards until it was pressed against my face. She wriggled her hips pressing my nose
into the crease between her buttocks. I coughed and spluttered, barely able to breathe as
she pushed backwards against me. The more distressed that I became, the more aroused she
became, pressing her buttocks against my face, as I tried to twist and turn to allow
myself some air. She reached down between her thighs, squeezing and pinching at my
nipples, causing me to buck and twist in response and bringing her even more amusement.
She eased forward and I gasped in a breath. My respite was to only last a moment.
Concerned that I might struggle, the woman brought her heels together so that my head was
clamped between her feet. She kept my head trapped as she pushed down her tights and thong
so that now she could push her naked arse against my face. She eased herself back against
me once more. My face was buried between her cheeks as she rubbed her backside up and down
against it, become more aroused with each stroke.
She moved her legs so that they were stretched out in front of her, and in this position
the heels of her shoes were drawn up my belly when she moved. As she pushed back against
my face, I bucked in response to the painful scraping from the heels.
Eventually she climbed off, turned around and grabbing the back of my head she pushed my
face against her crotch. The heavy scent of her arousal was full in my nose and I could
still hardly breathe as she pushed her hips forward rhythmically until she came with a
gasp of pleasure, crushing her crotch against my face. She paid no attention to me beyond
what was needed to take her own pleasure and, having satisfied herself, climbed off. She
pushed the gag back in place, this time pushing it in over the panties that still covered
my face. In doing so I realised that the panties had become soaked with the juices of my
assailant, and as she pushed the gag back she forced the taste of her into my mouth and
her scent of her into my nose.
I was still struggling to free myself while she put her slip, skirt and jacket on. She
took no notice. The only acknowledgement of my presence was when she had finished dressing
and fixing her makeup at the bedroom’s dressing table. She opened her handbag and I
watched in distress as she pulled out the nipple clamps and butt plug that had been
missing from the box earlier. She gave a girlish giggle as she smeared some jelly on the
plug, and then pushed it home. The sensation was extraordinary. It was the first time that
anything had been pushed into my arse, and it was at the same time arousing and deeply
disturbing. As I groaned half with discomfort and half with pleasure, she clipped a clamp
to each of my nipples earning a gagged and muffled yelp of pain from me for each. I was
wriggling in discomfort on the bed. As I twisted to avoid the discomfort of the clamps,
the plug was pressed up inside me. If I tried to raise my buttocks to reduce the pressure
on the plug, the pain of the nipple clamps seemed to increase. I could find no way to make
myself comfortable.
The woman stood watching me for a moment, evidently amused by my struggles. She went back
to her handbag and took out an envelope, checked the banknotes that were inside it, sealed
the envelope and left it on the table at the side of the bed. She blew me a kiss from
beneath her mask, pressed a key into my hand and left.
In our entire encounter she had not spoken a single word.