A Working Day
by Abe Froman
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 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?"
"Yes, please."
"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."
"Show me."
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, suck 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 noone gets past my desk."
With one more stroke over his satin-covered and steel trapped cock, she's
gone beyond the heavy wooden door. He pulls his trousers up past the
heels, over her stockinged legs and over his plugged and full ass. He
slides on his jacket, which now just serves to frame his lace-enclosed
breasts.
It was nearly impossible to work. He felt his ass ache with each motion in
his chair, and he was sure he could feel his own cum sloshing inside him.
The fake breasts were constantly getting in his way as he tried to type or
read reports. Worst of all, he knew exactly how he looked – taking time in
his private washroom to soak in the humiliating image staring back from
the mirror. He didn't quite know if Vicki would let someone past her to
see him this way. Each sound outside the door could be the end of his
reputation.
He never felt more alive.
