“So you found me.” Her voice sounds calm, almost amused, but I hear the undertone that cuts through my bones. I stand in the doorway of her office, lit after midnight only by a single desk lamp. She’s not behind the desk, but in a deep leather armchair by the window, a glass of red wine in her hand. Her legs are crossed, her skirt has ridden up high, so I see a strip of naked, pale thigh. My cock twitches immediately in my pants, and I curse myself for how easy I am.
“The message was clear.” My voice trembles, though I try to control myself. She had sent me a text at 11:47 PM: “Come to the office. Alone. Be on time.” No reason, no explanation. And I came, like a beaten dog waiting for a kick. My heart hammers against my ribs, and my palms are damp.
“Come closer.” She beckons me with her index finger. “And close the door behind you.” Her voice is honey-sweet, but sharp as a knife.
I do as I’m told. The soft click of the lock echoes in the silence, like a gunshot in an empty church. She looks me up and down, her eyes slowly wandering over my suit, lingering on my collar, which suddenly feels too tight. I feel my balls grow heavy, my cock pressing against the zipper.
“Do you know why you’re here, Lukas?”
I shake my head. “No, Dr. Berger.” My voice is hoarse.
“Call me Marlene. Here, tonight, we’re not boss and employee. We’re… something else.” She sets the glass down on the windowsill and rises. Under her fitted blazer, she wears a black blouse, the top buttons undone so I can see the swell of her breasts. Her steps are quiet on the carpet as she approaches me, but each step thunders in my ears.
“You’ve done good work in the last few weeks. Very good, even. But I want to know if you’re more than just an ambitious young man. If you can trust.” She stops close in front of me, her perfume—a mix of vanilla and cedarwood—envelops me, and I feel the warmth of her body. I could reach out and touch her, but I don’t dare.
“I can trust.” It sounds like a claim I don’t believe myself, but I want it so badly.
“Prove it.” She reaches into her blazer pocket and pulls out a black silk scarf. “I’m going to tie you up. You’ll surrender your hands to me, and I’ll do what I want. If you make a sound, I’ll stop. No questions. No hesitation. Is that clear?” She speaks slowly, each word a command.
My heart pounds in my throat, and my cock is now rock hard. “Yes.” The word is barely audible.
“Then turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
I obey. Her fingers touch my wrists, gently, then she tightens the fabric. The cloth is soft but firm. I could free myself if I wanted to—probably. But that’s not the point. I’m at her mercy, and that’s exactly what I want. My hands are now useless, trapped.
“Good. Now get on your knees.”
I sink down before her, the carpet cushioning my knees, but the pressure on my joints is real. She stands in front of me, her narrow heels at eye level. With one hand, she grabs my hair and pulls my head back until my neck hurts. “You look good down there. I like that.” Her voice is pure command, and I love it.
I close my eyes, feel her breath on my forehead. She releases me and steps back. “Stick out your tongue.”
I do it, blindly. My tongue feels dry as I push it out of my mouth. For a moment, nothing happens, then I feel something cold, wet on my tongue—red wine dripping from her fingers. The taste is tart and sweet at the same time. She guides my tongue to her shoe, licking the wine off the leather. “Clean. Completely clean.”
I obey, my mouth working over the smooth leather. The taste of wine and leather and her perfume. I lick up every drop, hearing her soft sigh. “You learn fast.” She presses her shoe harder against my tongue, and I feel the edges of the sole. My cock throbs in my pants, and I squeeze my thighs together to feel the friction.
She unties my bindings with a jerk. “Stand up. Get undressed. Nothing but skin.”
My fingers are numb as I unbutton my suit. She watches me, motionless, her eyes burning on my skin. I drop the jacket, open the shirt, slip it off. When I stand naked before her, my cock hard and erect, the tip already wet, she smiles. “Get on the desk. Lie down.”
I climb onto the polished wooden surface, cool against my back, a shock that makes my nipples hard. She follows me, kneeling beside me on the desk. “You’re trembling. Are you cold?” Her hand strokes my chest, and I feel her warmth.
“No.” I tremble with anticipation, my whole body taut as a bow.
“Good.” She leans over me, her lips brushing my nipple. A shock that runs through my entire body. Her tongue circles the hard tip, licking and sucking until I open my mouth to moan. But I hold back the sound. Her hand travels down my stomach, her fingers play with my navel, then take my half-hard cock in her hand. She massages it with firm grips, rubs the tip until I’m fully hard, the veins prominent. “You like this, don’t you? Giving up control.” She speaks close to my ear, her breath hot, her tongue licking my earlobe.
I nod, unable to speak.
“I want to hear you. Say it.” Her hand encloses my tip, rubbing her thumb over the opening. Fluid seeps out, and she spreads it over the entire head until it glistens.
“Yes. I like it.” The words sound like a confession.
“What exactly?” She presses her thumb into the opening, and I flinch, a flash of pain and pleasure.
“I like… that you decide. That I don’t have to think. That you use me.” The words come haltingly, but they are true, and I am not ashamed.
“Good.” She straightens up, unbuttons her blouse. The black lace bra comes into view, the cups half-transparent, her nipples pressing through. She opens the clasp, lets the cups fall. Her breasts are full, heavy, the nipples dark.
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