The following story is a work of fiction. It contains scenes of an adult nature so if you are under 18, stop reading now. This story contains explicit sexual language and fantasies. If you are offended by such activities, do not read any further. This is purely a fantasy. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. The author is not responsible for any damage resulting from reading this work. It is written with thanks to the woman who is its inspiration, along with apologies to her for any lack of quality. Any of the story's faults are the authors.
This story may be reposted or archived provided the following conditions are met:
1. The story is not altered in any way
2. The story contains my name and disclaimer
3. You do not make money from the story
Part 1: Morning
Michael Davis is just opening the front door from his house and stepping outside as his limousine pulls around to meet him. It's not stopped for a second before his driver his out to open his door. He smiles and says a quick hello and good morning. A warm smile on her red lips and a "Good morning, Sir," is his gift in return.
Denise, his driver, is dressed with a purpose. Her skirt is dangerously short and must have Lycra in it to grip her perfect ass that tight. Her smooth legs are perfectly displaying the pattern on her stockings. Her short black jacket barely covers her crisp white blouse, fitted to her curves perfectly. There are enough buttons on the blouse open to just show the top of the black lace bra offering up her perfect creamy breasts. They move just enough to be nearly hypnotic. He smiles. This girl knows how to dress for effect. His cock aches with the lust he feels.
As she closes his door and climbs into her own seat, his mind is suddenly drifting to the image of that skirt trying to stay in place as she drives. It must slide up around her hips; exposing whatever panties she might be wearing. Again, his cock aches.
He's soon distracted from that though by the personal video screen coming to life. Denise as per routine has started the DVD for him as soon as they get moving. He wonders if she ever bothers to look at what she's playing. The previous aching turns to an angry throb as they travel the next half hour to his office. The screen is felled with images of leather and lace clad women kissing, dancing, grinding against each other, massaging and finally fucking each other with urgent lust. It's a long drive.
Arriving at work, Denise opens his door with a very deep bend and smile. He's granted long and healthy look at her wonderfully full and young breasts, perfectly displayed.
He walks to his office, waving and smiling at the few employees who have arrived earlier than him
Now settled in his office, he scans the messages that arrived after his departure yesterday and plans a few items for the day. Perhaps half an hour later, he hears Vicki, his secretary, arrive and getting her own space ready, just steps outside his door. His mind drifts from his work for just a moment, wondering what she might be wearing today.
After about an hour, the intercom rings, and Vicki tells him a package has arrived for him by courier, and would he like her to bring it in. With a healthy touch of curiosity, he responds that that would be very kind of her.
She steps inside, opening the door after a soft knock. He catches himself taking in a deep breath upon seeing her — her slim and lean body is modelling a long skirt that seemed to cling to her curves and a fitted red sweater with a collar up to her neck but skin tight, hugging her firm breasts.
She smiles at him as he rises from behind his desk, admiring his perfectly fitted suit.
"Do you want it?"
"Have you been good enough?" she starts to taunt him.
"Yes, I have."
"Have you followed your instructions today?" A raised eyebrow accompanies her question.
"Yes, I have, Mistress."
He moves to the center of the office, and he removes his jacket, laying it over the corner of his desk.
"Stop there, and put your hands behind your neck." The command is firm and efficient.
He obeys, and she moves closer. Her fingers move to his trousers, opening his belt, tugging down the zipper, reaching inside.
"Ooohh, it feels right."
She continues and his pants are soon around his ankles, and he steps out of them at her command. She guides him out of his shoes as well. He now stands before her, under her control; exposed in black stockings, garter belt and bright pink thong panties. She reaches inside the front of his panties.
"And this lovely cock cage fits you perfectly, such a lovely bulge it gives. I bet it hurts quite a bit when your cock tries to get hard doesn't it?"
"Yes, Mistress, it does."
"I bet that happened a lot while watching the movie I chose for you, didn't it?"
"Yes Mistress, it did."
"Goody," she replies, loving each second of the sexual torment she insists he endure. "And do you like being in these panties for me, slut? Dressed like a man on the outside, but like a little trampy whore underneath?"
"Yes, Mistress, I love it."
"Good. Let's open your package, shall we? I ordered it special for you, and I'm so glad it's arrived."
She tears into the package, giggling with glee, and in a minute she's holding up his new toy before his eyes. It's a large, seven-inch bright pink butt plug, with swirling ridges down its length. "Oh good, this is going be so lovely in your little ass," she's clapping her hands together. "I bet you can't wait to wear it for me."
"Yes, Mistress, please let me fill up my ass with it for you," he begs sincerely, "Please."
"Oh, you will, my little girl, but not quite yet. I've got something else special for you. Take off your shirt and tie."
He loosens the tie, placing it over the desk as well, and unbuttons and removes his shirt.
"Turn to face the window."
He turns, his back to her, now dressed only in the panties and stockings, facing out across the city, never knowing who might be looking back. Her deft hands soon have his chest wrapped in a pink lace bra, matching his thong, and she slips large silicone breast forms inside the cups. Suddenly he carries D cup breasts on his frame.
"Now, turn back to face me. Show me your titties."
He turns, his face red. He never quite gets used to his, being a man in women's lingerie, so controlled by his secretary, his Mistress. He feels humiliated wearing the lingerie, the fake breasts, but he knows he does it for her pleasure, and that makes everything worthwhile. The feeling he senses from her when his obedience pleases her, arouses her, when the humiliation she forces upon him changes the tone of her voice in that way he loves, is the best feeling he's ever known.
And that look is growing on her face now — that curve of her lips. "Good girl," she says. "Bend over."
He obeys, and he bend deeply forwards, his legs spread, until he can nearly grip his ankles — the thong splitting his ass cheeks, exposed to the window.
Her fingers are roaming over him, teasing him. She slaps on latex gloves, and he soon feels those fingers, now cold and wet with lubricant, probing his ass, testing it.
Suddenly she is pushing something into his tight opening — it's so cold, it can't be the new plug. It pops inside, only to be quickly followed by another. He's allowed a moan, he knows from experience, but never a question. After the third is pushed inside, chilling him to the core, she speaks.
"Do you remember last week, slut, when you came for me in the ice cube tray? How much you had to give after saving it so long for me? I'll bet you do." The joy and pleasure is so evident in her voice that despite the discomfort he feels his cock throb in its cage. He did know, and she'd been having him build up more again — he hadn't been allowed to cum in a week. "Well you've got your little cum-cubes stuffed inside your own ass right now. An ass full of cum that will soon melt inside you. What a slut you are." Her voice stays just on the edge of gleeful laughter.
And then she guides the new plug inside. It's wider than he's been filled with before, and it aches and stretches him going in. She happily notes that its ridges allow her to literally screw it into his ass. And with a final push, its widest point pops into him, and the toy is home.
"You may stand now, slut."
He stood upright, and feels the plug so deep and full inside him — he feels it trap the torturing frozen cum in his ass. Will it be better or worse once it thaws? Knowing that his cum is sloshing around inside his own ass.
"Now, you may get back to work. Put back on your pants and your jacket. You may not be able to button your shirt over your new tits, so I'll just take it with me. Oh and one more thing."
She picks up his shoes where he's left them, and tosses him a different pair. Four inch black heels.
"You'll be wearing these too. Put them on."
Feeling the plug with each step, he moves to step into them. He fights for his balance at first, but he is ashamed to realize he's getting used to walking in heels. She leans down and as closes tiny locks on the buckling straps as she closes them tight.
" Now get to work, slut — you're going to have a trying and long lunch hour, so you'd better be productive. And looking like that, you'd better hope no one gets past my desk."
.... There is more of this story ...