She shut herself in her office that morning, telling her secretary that she needed the time to digest the pile of reports about their financial operation, before meeting with the representative from Wilson's.
She settled down to it and worked at the reports with a will, even though her mind kept wanting to stray into 'forbidden territory'. She fought that. But also realized that it had been a long while, a very long while, since she'd done anything about, what she called 'her thing'.
She pushed the thoughts away and tried to keep them at bay by promising that she'd take a break later and let the thoughts sweep over her, take even momentary possession of her. She was fine with that for the moment, and proceeded with the work.
Vanessa Ward was the CFO of the company, a company related to the defense industries. At 37 she was a marvelously beautiful woman. She had passion and drive; she was determined to do the best job possible and had been a very popular CFO for the company. She had in her background a number of really heavy women, and she always remembered that. She struggled to eat lightly and keep her weight under control. She was not a workout freak but did pay attention to workouts in the company's facility in the basement of the building, at least on a periodic basis.
She invariably attracted attention, when exercising, and wearing her workout clothes, the pants a bit loose, which she normally topped with a long tee shirt. Despite her urges, she wasn't in the frame of mind to be showing her shapely butt to any and all comers. But she still was the real package, with her large breasts and hair tightly curled to her head.
(Of her hair she often quipped to herself that it was only a 'handful'. But that kind of thinking was counter productive just now: thinking about a strong willed white man with his hand firmly lodged in her short curly hair holding on and keeping he face up where he could 'use it' ... And this thought was only relieved by the accompanying thought of that tight hand hold gripping her curly pubic hair.)
She caught herself at that point with her hand easily resting in her lap and putting pressure on her pubic area. She quickly moved her roaming hand and pushed those kinds of secretly dirty and delightful thoughts away from her and went back to her work on the financials.
After that, however it wasn't as easy to push the thoughts away but she determined that she'd have another half hour of work on the reports and then she'd take a break. The rep from Wilson's wasn't due for another hour and a quarter. She knew she'd have a little 'fantasy' time and that was fine. She made herself a promise.
She worked the reports and was quickly up to speed on what they were saying and what would be the basis for the talks with Wilson. She was confident about it. These talks, also, were only preliminary talks to see if there were projects that the two companies could hope to work on together for mutual benefit.
With a sigh, she came to the end of the reports, and set them down. She gave herself a moment to get it all kind of straightened out in her mind and then she settled back in her chair. Her hand drifted down to her skirt, and she told herself with a kind of lewd chuckle: 'Not at work, girl! You just let that pussy alone!'
A loud voice in her mind proclaimed a 'drat' at that point and it made her laugh. She reached for the intercom and asked her secretary, Margie, to bring her a cup of coffee.
"Will do, boss," Margie said and in a very short while was there with the coffee. Margie made the best cappuccino around.
Vanessa tasted it and said: "Oh, you should get a kiss for this; it's marvelous!"
Margie giggled and said: "Goodie for me, kissing the boss!"
Vanessa joined her in the giggle and said: "Okay, out brazen one!" It left Vanessa working to suppress her feelings of at least lust for Margie. She simply, as usual, pushed them away.
Margie; made a face and said: "Rats! No kiss for Margie!" Then she grinned at Vanessa and swished out of the office, with Vanessa promising to file the feelings that Margie was raising and think about them some other time. For right now, she decided, she would give herself over to those 'fantasy' thoughts.
Her mind wandered into areas that she normally forbade herself to think about during the day but there was pressure here. She hadn't been out acting on her fantasies for such a long time, and she was feeling the inner pressure to find some release.
When she gave herself the time and thinking room, when she allowed it, she simply went to a place in her mind where she dwelt as the contented, used sex slave. It was Vanessa's thing, a closely guarded secret. She knew that no one would be aware of it, except for the right kind of man, who would know immediately. He would know right away what Vanessa was really like:
He'd sense that she spent time in the evenings, prowling chat rooms where she could present herself as a submissive. She loved using dirty words about herself in these contexts because, for all of their ugliness, they spoke to the kind of men that she wanted to attract. There were the demands that she'd receive, when she found anyone. It normally ended with Vanessa sitting at her computer almost naked, or many times totally naked and saying, promising dirty, dirty things to the man, or, at times, woman, who would be right then making demands.
It was delicious! This was the former fat, black girl who now was the siren! Who now was the courtesan! Who now was the one who was desired, and who received the orders to take clothes off and do things to herself. She was frequently tempted to go further and send out demanded photos of herself or get on a cam with some of these men or women but up to that point she was determined not to.
When the need was great on her, as it was getting to be at that time, she went out, looking. At times her 'looking' got her into potential trouble. Those 'trouble times', normally involving a group of men, that she hadn't realized would be involved, were now the content of her playtime fantasies. She'd up to that point avoided true danger.
She remembered the one time that she did end up at a remote place. He'd tied her loosely to a chair and fed her his dick, and then, drinking all the while, told her that he was going to beat her, and burn her and generally enjoy her. It was only after he slumped into his chair, his chronic drinking taking possession of him at last, that she let herself go, realizing that she'd narrowly missed a dreadful scene and left.
(Of course, ever after, when Vanessa visited that scene, she wondered how the rest of it, that he'd had planned, would have felt. It made her wet thinking about it.)
She finished her cappuccino then and tried to reorganize her thoughts, letting the fantasies slip away. It was then that Margie came in and told her that Ben Wright, the man from Wilson's was there for her.
"Thanks, Margie," Vanessa said. "You can show him in."
The fact that she watched Margie's skirt covered butt almost avidly, as her secretary left, and let her mind drift onto thoughts of what kind of panties Margie was wearing, was a kind of sign to her that her fantasies were not totally stowed. But she made the effort and said to herself that she needed to get down to business.
She greeted Ben Wright, as he came into the office. She felt the immediate effect of his wild, blue eyes on her. It was as though he'd stepped out of one of her fantasies.
He smiled and said: "Ms Ward!"
She corrected him with a soft: "Vanessa, please!"
He had her hand in his then and smiled again, and she was dazzled, as he said a soft: "Vanessa, very nice!"
Dealing With Ben Wright:
Then he simply held her hand, while looking at her, into her eyes. She felt herself almost shrinking. In those few seconds —-were they only a few seconds or were they an eternity for Vanessa? She wondered —-she was assaulted by her inner voice, the one that she worked at keeping silent during work time, work hours.
"Strip!" the voice said, "Kneel! Kiss his hand! Take your clothes off! Get naked and put your hands behind your back to let him do what he wishes and what he will."
She shook the thoughts from her mind but not from the edge of her consciousness, and said to him:
"It's a treat to welcome you! We at Warren and Reed are hoping for cooperation between us that will benefit both of us, help us to meet mutual needs and build a relationship."
She winced inwardly, when she realized how that sounded and he was giving her a huge knowing smile, in the meantime.
"I agree and hope for the same kind of cooperation between us. But I foresee no problem in getting that started," he said, meeting what seemed like her hidden meaning with one of his own.
At that point, Vanessa was starting to lose control of herself. She felt a wetness gathering in her panties, and she fought to not let that part of her mind and wishes take over.
She stepped back and smiled at him, once more in control of herself, with her mind on business. He realized it. She knew that right away, for he nodded his head and acknowledged her having taken a step back and having gotten into her negotiating mode.
He dropped her hand but the blue eyes still blazed at her, and she fought not to become a captive, yet!
"Coffee? Something else?" she asked, and then added: "Mr Wright."
He smiled at her and said: "Make it Ben, please."
"Yes," she said, only barely avoiding adding 'sir' to her 'yes' comment. "Ben."
He smiled again and asked for a cup of coffee.
.... There is more of this story ...