Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Reluctant, Coercion, Blackmail, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Wimp Husband, Cuckold, BDSM, Spanking, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, .
Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A pretty young wife with money problems falls under the influence of her dominineering boss, and finds herself being spanked and caned and then exhibited in sexy undies, before being turned into the company slut.
"Hello Susan you are looking lovely today," Susan's boss George Blacker murmured, quite blatantly looking down her cleavage. Susan smiled as politely as she could, knowing she needed to keep in Mr Blacker's good books. Her husband had just lost his job, and they were going to have difficulties with mortgage payments unless he could find something soon She was hoping Mr Blacker would agree to the pay rise request she had put in a few days earlier.
She was actually rather pleased with his attention. Normally she didn't dress up as smartly as this for the office, but today was an exception. This was Valentine's Day, and they were having an office party, after which she was going to go home to Martin and be really nice to him and let him make love to her all evening, and night if he had the stamina. After losing his job, they couldn't afford to go out for a meal, so Martin had promised to cook while she was at work, and she was hoping to find candles on the table in the dining room when she got home. So she had come to the party dressed for Martin, and it was flattering that Mr Blacker had noticed how pretty she was looking. She was sure Martin would appreciate it.
She blushed when she remembered that she wasn't wearing a bra! That was something specially intended for Martin, but it would have been too difficult to remove her bra on the bus on the way home so she had come to the office party without a bra on. Now of course Mr Blacker was looking at the result, and obviously appreciating it.
"Thank you Mr Blacker, it's nice of you to say so."
"Unfortunately young lady I need to have a talk with you about that report you handed in earlier, I know I asked for it at short notice but I told you it was important, and frankly the result was a disappointment."
"Oh Mr Blacker, I am sorry, I know I rushed it, please let me do it again for you tomorrow." Susan flushed, knowing that she had rushed the report because she had long appointments with the hairdresser and the beauty salon. To be truthful she had only spent a couple of hours on a report that needed a full day's work. Still, she had thought, she could do it properly in the morning.
"Too late, Susan. I told you that I needed it this afternoon, and I had no choice but to post it on to Sir Reginald in the condition you gave it to me. He is getting ready for a court appearance in the morning and needed the figures this evening. Even though it was shoddily written, I trust that the statistics were correct?"
Susan flushed, not at all sure they would be correct. She had gathered them quickly and without checking them as thoroughly as she normally did. She stammered something optimistic, but Mr Blacker looked unimpressed.
"I think, Susan, that you had better come and see me after this party finishes. Perhaps we can ring Sir Reginald this evening and explain the situation. I would hate him to go to court and say the wrong thing, on the advice of our firm." He looked at his watch. "Let's say 6 pm in my office."
And with that he turned away and went to talk with a couple of his more senior managers. Susan was left pale and shivering, her day ruined. She gulped her glass of wine and went in search of another, and spent the next forty minutes in a daze, hardly talking when friends came up to chat, and downing two more glasses of wine before she noticed that Mr Blacker had left the room. She quickly skulled the last of her drink and went off to the lift and pushed the Top Floor button. On the way up, she realised she should have stopped for a pee, but it was too late now.
She knocked on Mr Blacker's outer office door, and his PA, the dreaded Mrs Helen Staples, snapped at her to come in. She entered Mrs Staples' office and stood waiting. Mrs Staples glared up at her, snapped "you are early, he is expecting you at six" and went back to her typing. She didn't offer Susan a seat, so she stood nervously twisting her fingers together wondering what Mr Blacker was going to say. She was just about to ask whether she could pop out to the toilet when Mrs Staples checked her watch, then reached over and buzzed her boss to announce that Susan was here.
She heard a gruff "thank you," but not an invitation to go in. So she was left feeling like a naughty schoolgirl as she stood waiting to be allowed to go through to the Inner Sanctum. At last the intercom buzzed and she heard his voice snap "send her in." Mrs Staples stood, went to the inner office door, knocked and opened it, and announced her.
"Susan Mudge is here, Sir, you wished to see her."
As Susan stepped into his office, he snapped "come in Susan." He was sitting behind an enormous desk in the middle of an enormous office. Susan was so scared she could hardly breathe.
"Do you want me to stay, Sir?" Mrs Staples asked, and Mr Blacker said that, yes, he would need her to show Susan out when their talk was over. Mrs Staples acknowledged and left, closing the door behind her. Mr Blacker beckoned for Susan to go around the side of his desk and to look at his computer screen. To do so, she had to bend forward over the side of his desk and twist her head around.
She shuddered as she saw the computer generated red lines under words showing spelling mistakes, green lines warning of poor grammar, and more worryingly many black lines down the sides where Mr Blacker had hastily patched in key sentences. "You can see that I made some essential changes but I didn't have time to turn it into an acceptable document. No, Susan, I fear that your report will be a disaster."
As he spoke, she noticed that she could see herself in the reflection off the screen, and bent forward posture was exposing most of her breasts to her boss's view. She decided she had better not try to hold the front of her dress up or anything coy like that, with him in this mood! She suddenly became aware that Mr Blacker's hand was resting on her bottom! She had no idea how long it had been there, and was too nervous to attempt to push his hand away. She twisted her head around and straightened up a bit, hoping to hide her breasts from his view, and she felt his hand slide down to the back of her thigh!
She gulped. "I will rewrite it tomorrow Sir, I promise."
"I think I might have to give it to your replacement, Susan, I am sorry."
"Oh god, no," Susan wailed, straightening right up and staring down at him. "Please Sir you can't mean it!"
"Susan, you recently applied for a pay rise! I had been giving it serious consideration until I received that report! I cannot accept intermittently good performance from you, girl. If you want to work for me I must be able to rely on you to hand in quality work all the time every time and on time."
"I will Sir, I promise."
"The reason I had asked Mrs Staples to stay behind is that I am intending to ask her to give you four weeks severance pay. She will have your desk cleared and the contents sent to your home."
"Oh please no you can't, we need the money to pay the mortgage. My husband just lost his job!"
"Well, yes be that as it may. I will have to consider that. The important thing now is, that we need to ring Sir Reginald, and explain why the report is such a mess. Maybe if he isn't too cross we can find a way out of this disaster."
Even in her distressed state, she was aware that his hand was on the back of her thigh, resting on the very top of her stockings. She was beginning to wonder if the movement of his hand was accidental, or a hint to her of the way this discussion was heading. Was that it? Was Mr Blacker going to make her have sex with him, in return for her keeping her job? How would she respond? At that moment she really wasn't sure what she would say. She kept very still, and the hand moved slightly up, so the thumb was now resting on bare flesh above the stocking. Susan's mouth was open and she was having trouble breathing. She thought of Martin, at home, cooking dinner.
"You agree that the report was a mess?"
"Yes Sir, I agree, I'm very sorry."
"In view of your domestic situation, I can see that the sack might be excessively severe. But you do need to be punished. Tell me, Susan, have you ever been spanked?"
The question was so totally unexpected that she gasped and just panted no, without thinking of protesting at the outrageousness of the question. "Well, maybe that might be an answer. Stand up, Susan."
She got to her feet and stood looking down at him in total confusion. Mr Blacker got to his feet and started rearranging his desk! He cleared everything off one end of it, and moved a small television screen thing to the opposite end. "Now, Susan, this won't hurt much, except your pride, and if you play your part well, maybe I will not sack you. Okay?" With no idea what he wanted, she just blankly nodded her head. Mr Blacker reached over and clicked the phone pad. A few seconds later, the screen came alive and displayed a mature good looking gentleman.
"Sir Reginald, I would like you to meet Susan, the girl who wrote that report."
Susan gave a nervous smile, but the man on the screen positively growled. "I'm surprised you have the nerve to show your face, girl, it's the worst report I have ever received from your company."
Susan stammered an apology. The man looked unimpressed. Mr Blacker spoke, "Sir Reginald, I had been intending to sack the girl, but in reality I have to admit that this was her first mistake. She has some financial problems, and she really needs her job here. I've suggested to her that it might be sufficient at this stage just to give her a good spanking. She has agreed, and while I know you are very angry, I thought maybe you might be satisfied to observe her receiving her spanking."
Susan panted, had she actually agreed to this? But it was too late to protest now!
Sir Reginald muttered, suggesting that Susan was going to get off lightly and should consider herself lucky, and as he was speaking Susan felt Mr Blacker's hand on the back of her neck bending her forward and down over the desk!
"On your elbows, Susan, please, and keep your head up, looking at Sir Reginald."
Susan did as she was told, and watched Sir Reginald's eyes go down, and she realised her dress was gaping open and Sir Reginald was getting a superb view of her tits! The room was suddenly very silent, as she felt Mr Blacker raising her skirt behind her! He was going to spank her over his desk while his client watched on the video phone!
"Now, Susan, I want you to say sorry Sir Reginald after each spank, okay? And the spanking will continue until Sir Reginald tells me that he is satisfied you have been punished sufficiently. Is that clear?"
"And I won't get the sack?"
"We will discuss that after we finish talking with Sir Reginald."
"Please, that's not fair," she moaned.
"Well yes okay, actually I am thinking of a transfer within the company to somewhere that your talents are better used. But yes, if you take your spanking without a fuss, I won't sack you on this occasion."
By now Susan's skirt was up over her back, and she could tell that her bottom and the backs of her thighs were fully exposed to Mr Blacker. She remembered the tiny g-string panties she was wearing, and knew that Mr Blacker could see her bottom as bare as if she had no panties on. She closed her eyes and waited. But it wasn't over yet. Mr Blacker slid his hands up her hips, he caught the waist band of her skimpy panties, and he tugged them down to her knees! She was way past protesting at anything that happened to her by now, and just waited for the spanking to start.
The noise of the spanking was almost worse than the pain! She imagined Mrs Staples listening, she imagined the whole building able to hear. Thank god everyone had gone home. She closed her eyes, unable to cope with looking at the cause of her shame while this was happening.
"I'm sorry, Sir Reginald," she moaned and immediately received another spank, on the other cheek this time. "I'm sorry, Sir Reginald." This was just totally humiliating!
Sir Reginald ordered her to open her eyes, and she did so as another spank landed. She saw the little round camera just above the screen, and she looked there as the spanking continued. Sir Reginald continued looking at her breasts.
After about a dozen fierce spanks, Sir Reginald started asking her questions, between the spanks! "Are you married, Susan?" She nodded, but that wasn't good enough, she realised he was enjoying the stress in her voice as she sobbed yes.
Then "how long have you been married?" She was trying not to cry as she explained that she and Martin had been living together for six months but had recently bought a house and they had got married six weeks ago. She even had to tell Sir Reginald how old she was, and when her birthday was! Did he intend to send her a birthday card? She hated having to tell him such things while she was being spanked on her bare bum and while he was looking at her dangling bare tits! Inevitably he asked her what size her tits were, and she moaned "36 C sir."
"Don't you ever wear a bra?"
She panted an explanation, about it being Valentine's Day and her husband waiting at home for a romantic meal. Sir Reginald smiled at that, and she hoped he would say she had been spanked enough. He did say that, but didn't say the punishment was over. Instead Sir Reginald asked, "Tell me Blacker, do you still have that cane in your office?" and Mr Blacker said that, yes, he did, Mrs Staples kept it in a cupboard in her office. "I tell you what then, you give the girl six with that and we will call it quits. I have to get on preparing my speech for tomorrow, and she needs to get home to her husband."
Susan moaned but as Mr Blacker used the intercom to call his PA, and calmly asked her to bring in the cane. A few moments later the horrid woman walked in with a long thin crook handled rattan cane, handed it to Mr Blacker, and left, all without a word.
He assured her that this wasn't going to hurt too much and that the spanking had prepared her bottom well for it so it wouldn't bruise her too much. She waited bent over the desk cringing as he walked towards her, swishing the cane through the air as practice. "Six strokes, Susan, count them, and thank Sir Reginald for being so understanding."
CRACK. The cane was agony, leaving a trail of fire across her throbbing bottom! She panted, squirmed, and gasped "One, thank you Sir Reginald." Mr Blacker gave her long breaks between each stroke but still the caning reduced her to tears. At last she gasped "six, thank you Sir Reginald," and Mr Blacker told her to stand up and turn around and keep her skirt up above her waist. She knew this was so Sir Reginald could see her bottom. She felt her panties slipping further down her legs towards her feet.
She sobbed as Mr Blacker adjusted his desk light to illuminate her tortured cheeks fully, so Sir Reginald could observe the cane marks. He told her to hold her dress up higher, and she ended with it almost under her armpits! Sir Reginald commented that he didn't like stay up stockings, he preferred garter belts and suspenders.
Mr Blacker buzzed his PA and asked her to come and collect the cane, and Susan flushed with embarrassment as the older lady smirked at her as she took the cane and asked if that would be all. Mr Blacker said that yes, she could go home now, and thanked her for waiting.
Susan stood like that while Mr Blacker and Sir Reginald talked for a while, about other work the company was doing for Sir Reginald, in the end it seemed that relationships with the client had been fully recovered by Susan's punishment and the two men seemed to be on very good terms when Sir Reginald finally told her to turn around.
Standing facing him, still with her skirt right up, she knew he could see her crotch, and the bush of blonde hair there, and blushed scarlet as the eyes of the image on the screen quietly surveyed the sight for a few moments in silence. Mr Blacker was back in his chair behind the desk, also looking at her pubic bush. "What panties was she wearing, George?" the horrible man asked, and Susan was told to tug them up so Sir Reginald could see them. It was desperately embarrassing pulling them up then raising her skirt again just so the man in his office at the other end of the telephone could check out what knickers she was wearing! And the skimpy little g-string was not something she would normally have let anyone except her husband see!
At last Sir Reginald spoke. "Well, girl, I hope you have learnt something from this evening," he growled, and she whispered that, yes, she had, and he wished her good night. As his face disappeared from the screen, she looked at Mr Blacker wondering whether to let her skirt drop, or to get back over the desk so he could fuck her.
"Tell me Susan, have I ever met your husband?"
"No Sir, why?"
"Perhaps I should see him, explain what you have done, explain to him why I am considering giving you the sack, tell him about the alternative employment that I am considering for you."
Susan thought of poor Martin sitting eagerly waiting to have the planned romantic evening alone, and instead having to cope with this. Mr Blacker offered to drive her, because she normally travelled by bus, and soon she found herself in an expensive limousine sitting nervously in the passenger seat beside him, her bum tingling and throbbing on the lovely leather seat. As he drove, he glanced down at her skirt, which had ridden up her thighs.
"You heard Sir Reginald's views on stay ups? That he prefers suspenders and a garter belt?"
Susan blushed scarlet, too embarrassed to reply. She tugged the skirt hem down as far as it would go, but said nothing, biting her lip and trying not to cry.
"I'm sure that stay-ups are bad for a girl's legs," Mr Blacker continued, his eyes now back on the road. "That tight restriction round her thighs all day long can't be good for them."
"I was only wearing them for the party Sir, normally I wear panty hose." She didn't feel up to admitting that she was wearing them to please her husband on Valentine's Day, that seemed so irrelevant to the situation. Mr Blacker seemed just to be talking about her stockings to pass the time, but still Susan found it embarrassing. He asked her if she was planning on going out tonight, and she mumbled that, no, they were planning to have an evening at home. She was sure she had told him that during Sir Reginald's inquisition, hadn't he been listening?
"Ahh, I see, I am sorry, I suppose this is rather bad timing, isn't it?"
"Yessssss," she sobbed, unable to hold back the tears.
When they pulled up at her house, he stopped the car and handed her his handkerchief to mop the tears from her face. As she did so she looked at their lovely house and wanted to plead with Mr Blacker not to sack her, she and Martin had only bought the house four months ago and they had been so happy there, now it seemed that they might have to let the bank sell it and go back to living in rented accommodation. She noticed that Mr Blacker had put his hand on her thigh, and was patting it gently, comfortingly, and she realised that Martin might be looking out the window, and might misinterpret what he saw.
She took a grip on herself, and turned to Mr Blacker and said "I'm okay now, let's go in." Mr Blacker came round and opened the door for her and held it while she got out, she vaguely noticed that he looked at her thighs as she swung from the seat, but she was too distressed to bother much about what he saw. When she bent forward to climb out, she realised he could probably even see her nipples down the front of her dress, but so what? She probably wouldn't be working there tomorrow so it hardly mattered what he thought of her.
Her hand was shaking so much she couldn't put the key in the front door, and Mr Blacker took it from her and opened the door and stood aside to let her enter.
"Darling it's me, I've got someone with me, it's Mr Blacker from the office."
Martin came out from the kitchen, dressed really nicely, obviously ready to put on the big seduction thing, even though he surely knew Susan didn't need seduction. If he had swept her off to bed instead of cooking dinner, she would have been even happier. But now it looked as though her plans for the evening were ruined, and they would probably spend the night sitting up worrying about their future.
Susan cringed as Mr Blacker explained in the most damning terms the cause of his complaint, and then announced his verdict. "I feel that I can no longer trust her to provide me with reports of the standard that I need. I had decided that I was going to have to let her go."
"Oh my god!" Poor Martin looked totally devastated. Susan went to him and put her hand on his arm but didn't feel she could do more until she saw how he was going to react. Martin looked at her and she could tell he was feeling as bad as she was.
"Darling I'm sorry," she whispered, knowing it wouldn't be any consolation.
"What about the mortgage?" Martin moaned. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it, then turned to face the Boss.
"Now wait, don't get too upset until you have heard my suggestion. I didn't know that you had lost your job until Susan told me, I thought you would be able to cope if I sacked Susan on your salary. But in the circumstances maybe we need to explore other options."
Susan thought she would be sick with relief, her knees sagged and she went to the sofa and sat down, barely able to breathe. "Please, yes, Sir, please," she moaned. Mr Blacker sat down opposite her. His eyes went down to her knees, and she remembered what he had said about her stockings. If he wanted her to wear a garter belt, she would! Martin also expressed his delight that there might be some alternative, and Mr Blacker suggested that Martin sit down beside Susan on the sofa.
Mr Blacker sat silently for a few minutes, his eyes on Susan's knees, putting on an appearance that he was deep in thought. Susan was sure he was just reliving the sight and sound of her caning. At last he spoke. "I'm trying to see what employment we could offer Susan where her many talents can be put to good use without embarrassing me in the way she did today. I think that Susan would be good with clients, maybe we should move her into customer relations."
Susan panted, what an incredible change of fortune! She gripped Martin's hand praying that he wouldn't say anything to change Mr Blacker's mind. She waited for the idea to gel, wondering if there would be much of a drop in salary, but willing to take anything that was available. She was worried that Customer Relations might include more of what she was doing in Mr Blacker's office recently, but so long as Martin didn't find out she thought she could cope with a few canings.
Mr Blacker continued. "Customer relations means longer hours, sometimes having to entertain clients in the evening, that sort of thing. There would be significantly more pay of course, but how would you newly weds cope with the extra separation?" Susan was impressed that Mr Blacker rememberd her telling Sir Reginald that they had only been married recently. She panted that they would cope, and Martin indicated that he agreed.
"Sometimes Susan might have to travel with me to other places, and stay overnight," he said, and Martin seemed unconcerned by that thought. Susan was very concerned. She remembered the way Mr Blacker's hands had roamed over her body for most of the last hour, and she had little doubt where she would be sleeping if she had to stay in a hotel with him. He might book two rooms, but she was becoming convinced that this new deal was going to involve her having sex with Mr Blacker. But she didn't say anything, she wasn't yet agreeing to it, she was just listening to his proposal. But she could feel her face flushing red with embarrassment.
"Look, I have an idea. You said that you were going to have a private dinner at home? Martin was cooking, I think you said?"
Susan nodded nervously. "Well, how about if we give you a try out? Instead of Martin and you dining, how about if you and I have dinner together, here, with Martin acting as the chef and waiter?" Susan was totally confused, but said okay, that would be okay, if it helped him see how she would fit in with the Customer Relations work.
"Okay then, well now. First, you must get rid of those stay up stockings. Do you have a garter belt and proper stockings?"
Susan gasped, what on earth difference did it make? She looked up at him in horror, and to her amazement Martin hissed "yes, Sir, she has a garter belt." How did Martin imagine Mr Blacker even knew she was wearing stay ups?
"Excellent, pop up and get it for me, would you, Mr Mudge? And new stockings if you have some, still in the packet by choice." Martin got up and stepped towards the door. "Oh, and look, get some nice fresh panties for her, would you, Mr Mudge? Nice sexy ones, of course, maybe French knickers or something." Susan flushed, appalled that Mr Blacker didn't like her g-string and was so casually telling her husband to make her change into undies he would like!
Martin looked pretty surprised but left the room. Susan sat looking up at Mr Blacker and blushing scarlet. She was now convinced that Mr Blacker intended to have sex with her, and was still trying to decide if she could cope with that. Just so long as he is discrete, she thought, so long as Martin never knows. Yes, if he is discrete I think I can do this.
"Please, Mr Blacker, don't tell Martin about my caning," she whispered, wanting to convey the message that her main concern was that Martin mustn't find out about anything.
"Of course, Susan. Look, Susan, I'm sorry, but in customer relations it's just essential that everything is done exactly right. Stay up stockings and stale panties just are not appropriate for having dinner with a client. And while you looked very pretty in that cute little g-string it's hardly appropriate wear for a girl in Customer Relations."
Put like that, she couldn't really think of a reason to protest. But when Martin came down holding the fresh lingerie, Susan was left wondering how to change! Mr Black had, by now, sat down again, and was waiting with one eyebrow raised for her to get ready for dinner!
Susan kicked off her shoes and stood up, and moved sideways so she was in front of her husband. She raised her skirt at each side, and pushed her stockings down to her feet, and hissed to Martin "please, darling, take those off for me would you?"
Then the panties. Although Mr Blacker couldn't see, because the skirt was still hanging down in front of her, she was still horribly embarrassed as she slid the panties down her thighs. She was quite certain that they would be sopping wet!
Again Martin helped her step out of them, and she quickly bent to take them from him and threw them to the side so Martin wouldn't realise the state they were in. She asked him to help her put the garter belt on, clipping it around her waist as she held the skirt up as high as she could. Mr Blacker's eyes never left the place where they all knew her crotch was now naked. Of course, Mr Blacker had already seen it, but he was apparently enough of a gentleman not to tell her husband about that!
She wished she had put the fresh panties on before doing the garter belt. As Martin struggled with the clips, reaching up under her dress, she prayed that he couldn't see her bottom under the hanging rear of her dress. If he did see it, she prayed that he wouldn't comment, she didn't think she could cope with telling him how she had been spanked and caned over Mr Blacker's desk.
At last the belt was done, and Martin slipped the new panties onto her feet and tugged them up her legs, and she adjusted them with her fingers, and finally let the skirt fall down.
Mr Blacker asked Martin how the food was doing, and he said that he should probably go and look at it. Mr Blacker asked Susan if she could do the rest without her husband's help, and she had no choice but to say that, yes, she could. So Martin left the room, leaving her alone with her boss, and a packet of new sheer seamed stockings that she had bought to tease her husband and which now her boss was going to watch her put on. Mr Blacker stood up, walked over to where she had thown the g-string, picked it up, went back to his chair, sat down, and sniffed the panties as he watched her.
She sat down, and took the stocking packet, and opened it, and took out one of the stockings. Rolling it up, she slipped it over one bare foot, and rolled it up her calf, over her knee, and up her thigh. Reaching up under her skirt, she fumbled for the suspender strap, and was about to clip it on, when Mr Blacker spoke. "Under the panties, Susan, always the straps must be under the panties."
Susan struggled to push the straps down inside her knickers without letting Mr Blacker see too much, then did the clips around the welt of the stocking. She realised that girls wore their panties outside suspender straps if they expected to be taking their panties off!
Her hands were trembling again as she drew the other stocking up her other leg, and shuffled the straps to get them down through her panties, then out to the stocking welt. She was sure she had never been more embarrassed in her life. At last it was done, and Mr Blacker made her stand, and once again he made her raise her skirt up high, and he made her turn around so he could check the result. Martin came into the room at this point, and Mr Blacker put the g-string in his pocket and smiled innocently up at Martin.
Suddenly Susan realised why Mr Blacker had made her change from g-string to French knickers. It was so her husband wouldn't see the cane stripes. Martin's voice was rather strained as he advised that dinner was nearly ready.
"How about a nice drink before the meal? A gin and tonic would be fine," Mr Blacker said casually, and Martin apologised and said they didn't have anything like that. Mr Blacker accepted a beer, and told Martin to bring Susan a glass of red wine. At last he allowed her to drop her skirt and sit on the sofa again. Martin handed Mr Blacker his beer before giving Susan her wine.
Sipping it, she thought that this was the wine that she should by now have been drinking as she gazed into her loved one's eyes before going off to bed with him. Well, no, probably they would have made love over the dinner table, or on the carpet. Susan was wondering what Mr Blacker's intentions were for the evening. Would he want that, while Martin watched? Just thinking about that made her blush scarlet. She realised that she was going to let Mr Blacker do whatever he wanted. She wondered if Martin had yet realised what Mr Blacker was intending.
Mr Blacker was looking at her knees, and without being told to, she moved her knees apart slightly. Mr Blacker responded with one word, "wider," and she obeyed. She had never before sat deliberately allowing a man to see up her skirt, and she was ashamed at the way doing so now was arousing her.
Martin came in and went to sit beside her, but she glared at him, and mouthed no, and he flushed and stepped back. He wasn't her husband now, he was the waiter, and he must remember his place. What would Mr Blacker require of him while she and Mr Blacker made love?
At last Mr Blacker put down his beer, only half drunk she noticed, and he stood up and came to her and held out his hand. She gave him her hand and he helped her to stand, and he kept hold of her hand as they walked through to the dining room, with Martin following. Mr Blacker held her chair for her as she took her place at one side of the table, pushing the chair in under her as she sat down. Martin didn't know how to do such things, she realised. Mr Blacker was such a gentleman! She had so much to learn if she was to succeed in Customer Relations.
She grimaced as her welted bottom settled on the hard dining room chair, and her boss noticed. As he took his seat opposite her, where Martin had intended to be sitting, Mr Blacker gave her a sympathetic smile and asked if her bottom was very sore. Susan glanced towards the kitchen to make sure Martin wasn't listening, and whispered that, yes, it was very sore.
"I'm sorry about that, Susan, dear, but you have to understand that Sir Reginald is a very important client. That little sacrifice of yours will be worth a lot to us if it means we keep Sir Reginald's account."
Susan mumbled that yes, she understood, and she didn't really mind, although she resented the use of the word little to describe her sacrifice. She was actually a bit ashamed at the way the sting in her bottom, coupled with everything else that had happened, and the wine, was making her feel quite sexy. She bit her lip and looked down at the table and tried to stop thinking such things. Below the table she opened her legs wide apart, and could feel her pussy oozing girl arousal juices. She was glad of the fresh panties, but was sure they were already wet!
Martin had excelled himself. There was soup first, served with white wine, then a meat dish with red wine. He knew the effect that wine, especially red wine, had on Susan, and had obviously intended to get her really horny during dinner. Well, that was the effect the wine was having now, but not for the objectives that Martin had intended.
Susan could feel the wine buzz as she sat talking to her boss, trying to join in his conversation and show him that she could entertain important clients. He asked her something about finance, and she was completely unable to contribute, and felt stupid for that. However instead of commenting, Mr Blacker asked Martin to draw up a third chair, and pour himself a glass of wine, and join them. "Let's pretend that you are the client, let us show Susan how a woman contributes in men's discussions."
He asked Martin for his views on world affairs and politics and finance, and Susan was quite proud of Martin's ability to converse on such things, although of course he was totally outclassed by Mr Blacker. The older man encouraged her to get involved, and she realised that she did know something about the things they were talking about. She resolved that, if she got the new job, she would start reading newspapers. She shivered at the thought of having to hold her own with a group of businessmen!
During a lull in the conversation, Mr Blacker turned to her and said softly "Susan, do me a favour, would you? Please, drop your dress down to your waist, I want to see those lovely breasts properly." She looked at Martin, whose mouth was hanging open, either in shock or excitement she wasn't sure.
Her fingers were shaking again as she reached behind and tugged down the zip at the back, then eased the shoulder straps down and off her arms, and let the dress fall down into her lap. She lowered her eyes to the table as Mr Blacker turned to her husband. "You don't mind, do you Mudge?" Martin mumbled something unintelligible, and said he needed to fetch the dessert, and left the room.
When Martin was out of earshot, Mr Blacker congratulated her on her husband's performance! Susan immediately thought of the performance she had been expecting to enjoy after the meal with Martin, and wondered yet again what Mr Blacker intended to do after the meal.
They ate the sweet in silence, Susan trembling, aware of the way her nipples were swelling under the steady gaze from across the table. When Martin went to put on some soft music, she whispered "will I have to sit like this when I am with your customers?"
"Sometimes yes." She shuddered, gasped, her face flushed. Mr Blacker paused before saying "there will be bonuses, extra pay for extra services."
Susan sat in silence, contemplating that word, services. Did it mean she would be expected to have sex with the clients? Well, of course, she knew that it did. Was she really game for this? She felt the way her pussy was flooding, and knew that, yes, she yearned to be treated like this!
Martin came back to the table and asked if they wanted coffee, and Mr Blacker took his eyes from Susan's, looked up at Martin, and said "yes, with milk please", then looked back into Susan's eyes. She felt that somehow he was hypnotising her!
Martin collected the dessert plates and took them away. Susan heard the sigh of the boiling kettle, and thought that very soon Mr Blacker would explain his wishes, and she wondered if she would be able to cope with his demands. Would Martin be able to cope? Maybe Mr Blacker would be kind and find some way to get what he wanted without Martin knowing, though Susan could see how Mr Blacker had been slowly testing Martin to see when and if he would protest. So far he hadn't protested at all!
When Martin returned, Mr Blacker again let him sit with them at the table, as they drank coffee. Susan's hands were shaking as she raised her cup to her mouth, and some of the coffee spilt onto her breasts. Nobody spoke for some time, both men watching the brown liquid running slowly down her pale skin. Then Mr Blacker sighed and said "you know Mudge your wife really does have delightful breasts."
Susan thought she would die if Martin said anything, and as if he sensed her concern he silently stood and collected the coffee cups. "Would you like some more wine, Mr Blacker?"
"Not here, thank you," Mr Blacker said, pushing his chair back and standing up. "That was a most excellent meal, Mudge, thank you. Let's go back to the lounge, I want to put some ideas to you both." He came around to her side of the table, drew back her chair as she stood, and stepped back slightly, watching her as she turned to face him. She went to pin her dress at least to her waist, hoping to be allowed to pull it back up, but he said no, leave it, so she dropped her hands to her sides. Her dress slid slowly down her hips to the floor.
"Beautiful," he breathed, and held her hand as she stepped out of the puddle of material around her feet and walked beside him to the other room, now wearing just the garter belt, the frilly knickers, black sheer seamed stockings, and high heeled shoes. He led her to the sofa and watched her as she sat down.
This time the Customer Relations test was, apparently, over. After getting them drinks, Martin was instructed to sit beside Susan on the sofa. When they were seated, and Susan had another glass of wine and the two men were drinking beer, Mr Blacker lent back in his chair looking very satisfied. At last he explained his proposal.
"Your wife will join my Customer Relations team, coming out with me when we go to entertain clients. These will be important customers, heads of business, barristers, men like that. We will be taking them to dinner, to the theatre, out in sailing yachts, all those sort of things. It's very important that we make them feel that they want to continue using our services. Sometimes it will involve late nights, will that be okay with you, Mudge?"
Susan was almost certain that Mr Blacker was warning them that sometimes she might have to go to bed with these mysterious clients, leaving the restaurant and going with the man to his hotel room. She held her breath while Martin thought about it for a few moments. Sensing possible opposition, Mr Blacker added "there will be a pay rise for the new position, and an hourly allowance payable in addition to her salary for each evening." Martin took a few deep breaths before saying yes, it would be okay.
"Excellent. Well, we can talk about the detail in the office tomorrow. Come to see me at, let's say, eleven o'clock, okay Susan? No, wait, make it twelve o'clock, we might go out to lunch to discuss it over a meal. We need to decide on your new salary, and things like that. There will be a pay rise of course, as I said earlier. Possibly quite a large one, but we can discuss it tomorrow."
Mr Blacker looked at his watch, and sat forward in his chair. "But now it's late, and time for bed. Martin, that was an excellent dinner, thank you. Now you have some clearing up to do, I suppose. Washing dishes and things?"
Susan went white. It was happening. Martin seemed also to realise what was meant by that remark. He got up and went quietly to the kitchen. Mr Blacker stood up. Once more he held out his hand, and helped her to stand. Again he held onto her hand, and escorted her as she walked on shaky legs. This time they didn't go to the dining room. This time they went upstairs. To bed. To the marital bed. He told her to stand still and to put her hands on her head.
As Mr Blacker stood behind her and ran his hands down her body from her breasts to her hips, then slowly eased the French knickers down her thighs and bent to kiss her welted bottom, she noticed that Martin had put flowers on the bed, for her. Even from here she could read the card. To my darling Susan, happy Valentine's Day.