Under His Thumb by Nikita
Lindsay Wilson arrived a bit late. As she struggled to walk upright in her high
heels and a briefcase under her arm, she spilled her coffee on passersby. Vera,
her assistant, looked up over her reading glasses, distracted by the commotion.
"Ms. Wilson? Can I help you with that?" she asked, and got up to relieve
Lindsay of her briefcase.
"Thanks Vera. What would I do without you?"
Vera knew the ropes. She was Lindsay's global positioning system. A trim and
fit, fifty year old woman who could still turn heads, she wore an updated June
Cleaver hairdo and Coco Chanel style suits.
Lindsay sat in the oversized leather chair and looked out the coveted window in
her office while she lazily sipped her latte. She lost herself in erotic
reverie.
She visualized herself showcased as a young woman chained to a large metal cage;
her form taut, like a violin string ready to be plucked. The smell of leather
couches, bouquets of pubic hair on her lips, and spankings, heightened the
musings, and were certainly not meant for the office. The caffeine kicked in
and real life intruded on her daydream.
"Vera? Can you order me some lunch? The usual. Thanks."
Lindsay took lunch in her office to avoid distractions and unnecessary gossip.
Office politics were stumbling blocks to promising careers at the mere whisper
of impropriety. Being the only female executive at the firm made her an obvious
target. Lindsay commanded attention just by her presence and was not
intimidated by the good old boys club. The fair haired child was an undisputed
success under her boss's wing. It had been the same situation in college. The
male students called her teacher's pet, but they all wanted to be her study
buddy. Lindsay would smirk and tell them to take a number.
"Ms. Wilson? You have an appointment with Mr. Hertz in five minutes." reminded
Vera.
Dick Hertz, one of the firm's principals, was a distinguished business man that
wielded a lot of power. Tall, he had a square build with bulked up arms.
Piercing eyes, punctuated by thick eyebrows tinged with gray, complemented his
dark hair. Considered a ladies' man by his cronies, Dick Hertz was depraved.
In college, he was one of a group of rowdy students who loved to initiate brainy
girls to the pleasure of decadent sex through humiliation. They would take
trophy photos of their conquests, posed on all fours, wearing a dog collar with
a leash held by their master. It wasn't until one of the girls threatened to
press charges that the group disbanded.
When Dick set his eyes on Lindsay, her fate was sealed. He met her at a college
career fair and was acquainted with her mentor. She was the smartest young
fluff out of college and he groomed her for a position on his team. It had been
with iron self control that he kept his hands off her.
As Dick ushered Lindsay to his office, he sneaked a look at her magnificent firm
ass. She was exquisitely feminine. Dick pushed down a newly sprung hard-on and
began to brief her. He he pined for her like the class president after the
brainiac cheerleader. His fantasy involved turning her into his little pleasure
slave, complete with collar and leash, licking his balls for attention. That
vision always gave him a diamond cutter hard-on that men his age would give
their eyeteeth for.
"Lindsay, we have to expose you to some marketing experience to make you a more
rounded executive." Dick said. "There are several contracts outstanding that
need to be closed in order to meet our bottom line by the end of the year."
"You want me to close some contracts?" she asked, her posture straight. Dick
turned to smile as he pretended not to notice that puppy dog pose.
Lindsay thought of Dick as a sugar daddy without strings, a father figure.
His eyes twinkled, "It would be a feather in your cap."
Lindsay didn't need any inducement to please him. She was his protege and Dick
played on this. He was an extremely sharp judge of character, and counted on
manipulating her into submission.
"Your first client is a a tough nut to crack, a real piece of work." he said,
tossing a dossier on Loren Leslie into her lap. "He's a well known commercial
developer based in Boston. "
Lindsay read between the lines. Of the challenges she'd faced so far, forging a
relationship with a complete stranger in order to sign a contract, was a tall
order to fill.
"Got any tips sir?" she asked.
As her eyes examined the dossier, she focused on fulfilling the job's
objectives, with no holds barred.
"You're a smart cookie, Lindsay. Use your pluck to find his weak spot, then
pounce." he smiled.
Dick and Loren Leslie were college rowdies together. Briefed on Lindsay's visit
for the set up, Leslie drooled at the prospect. The two men had often exchanged
proteges and assistants for entertainment without the young women's knowledge.
Having played this self satisfying game for many years, they could have written
a How To Blackmail Your Assistant Guide for other executives.
Camcorders were hidden in their offices to capture every sordid detail. Each
couldn't risk molesting one of their own employees, so they traded victims and
shared the videos with colleagues and clients in their super deluxe home
theaters.
***********************
Loren Leslie specialized in building office parks for technical firms. The
dossier painted him an arrogant, pompous, and eccentric man. He was paunchy
with large facial features. In his late sixties, he was divorced and had
grandchildren. Although known to flog his underlings in front of co-workers for
costly mistakes or bad decisions, these employees never quit or filed charges
because they were well compensated. Leslie was like an old school bully who'd
been an enforcer in kindergarten.
Lindsay memorized quirks and little tidbits like his penchant for antique
equestrian accessories, especially crops and whips. She rubbed her ass when she
saw the word "crops."
A vision in a black power suit, Lindsay clutched her briefcase as she waited
outside Mr. Leslie's office. She'd been shivering throughout the cool and
rainy morning and the smell of coffee warmed her up. Taking out her compact for
a lipstick check, she tried to tame the tendrils that flew about her face.
"Ms. Wilson?"
The cultivated voice sounded like maple syrup on nails. From the side, he had
the profile of Alfred Hitchcock, right down to sandbag eyes and pouty lower lip.
He stood in the doorway and waited impatiently for her to be quick about it.
He cleared his throat, "Ahem."
Lindsay noticed his polite impatience and smiled as she firmly shook his hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Leslie," she smiled demurely as he ushered her into
the inner sanctum.
"I understand you are Dick's new protege." he said nasally, "Sit down, please."
Leslie pointed to a chair for her to sit. He stood behind his desk and expected
the usual schoolgirl suck up to the teacher look and fancy pants act. Instead
he observed the calm, cool, demeanor of a young woman who couldn't stoop so low.
She piqued his interest. Leslie decided to toy with her further and asked about
her past projects. Nodding with attention, he listened to her modestly describe
her last four projects, two of them while still an undergrad at Tech.
"I'm a Harvard man, myself, got my masters at MIT," he continued in his arched
Bostonian accent with the affect of trying to impress the wispy young woman.
Lindsay gave him a brief smile and nodded, "Of course, sir."
Deftly changing the subject, she showed interest in the colorful collage of
plaid blankets opposite his desk. He followed her gaze, pleased to see she
recognized tartans. He took this opportunity to wax poetic about his family's
Scottish roots and pointed out the Leslie family crest.
Stifling the urge to smile, Lindsay turned to view his fine collection of
antique leather crops, whips, and strops, artfully arranged on a long wall above
a heavy mahogany credenza. She was awed by expanse of the exhibit.
Impulsively, she reached up to run her fingers along a well used riding crop.
Leslie grinned wryly. He noticed her eyes luster as she touched the leather.
"Mr. Leslie, do you ride?" she murmured.
"Every chance I get." he responded, his chest puffing out like a peacock.
Using this as an opportunity to pounce, Lindsay inched closer to him and asked,
"Can we seal the deal for the upcoming project?"
Leslie was disarmed by her directness. She's good, he thought, real good. Dick
had thrown him a gauntlet, a challenging female. But for now, he wanted to play
a little more cat and mouse. Rubbing his balding gray pate, he stalled for
time, not wanting to give up so soon. As he circled the room he chose his words
carefully.
"Well, I. . .uh. . ." and he looked away.
Lindsay looked at him quizzically, expecting an answer.
"I need a little...mm...incentive?" he said with an arched eyebrow.
Leslie walked to the wall with the leather collection. For the first time that
day, his eyes twinkled nastily. She instantly read his mind and her puss
quivered at the prospect. Cooly, she walked over and looked the crops over.
"Which one?" he asked.
"Your choice." she smiled, her knees weak.
The corner of his mouth curled in a wicket smile. "Ms. Wilson, is your
incentive offer genuine?"
"It is Mr Leslie." she said, blushing from head to toe.
Lindsay trembled at the thought of being whipped, but they had reached an
agreement. Business is business. It's the bottom line that counts.
Being at the mercy of an old man who manipulated her into this position was
repulsive. His cock sprung in anticipation as he raced to click the latch. She
felt his hands undo the button on her skirt and pull the zipper down, so that
the skirt gathered around her ankles. Lindsay never expected he was going to
spank her with her panties down. She hesitated.
"Go on," he snapped impatiently, as he motioned for her to remove her pantyhose.
Silently, she cursed him.
"These have to go, too," he said, cutting her panties off with his pocketknife.
Humiliation sprung like tiny beads of sweat as Lindsay felt the cool air on
naked slit.
"Please bend over the desk, my dear. No, no, a little further to the left." he
said politely, moving her this way and that to capture the action on the
camcorder.
She assumed the position and rested her arms on the cool, polished wood; her
impudent butt laid bare, ready to receive the strokes.
From behind, Leslie admired her ass and the soft, smooth petals of her girlish
lips. Evident that she had been recently strapped, he was intoxicated at the
sight.
"Beautiful." he mumbled as he caressed the luminous orbs.
His cold hand firmly spread her cheeks and he forced a gnarled finger in the
grommet. She inhaled sharply and gritted her teeth. Finding resistance, he
licked his finger to moisten it and worked it in to the first knuckle. She
yelped in protest. He delighted a the prospect of a rectal invasion in the near
future, but for now, she had amnesty. Her breath deepened and her slit became
slithery. She sighed relief when the finger was removed. Distressed he'd
change his mind and try to fuck her, she turned her head to see he'd picked the
most fearsome whip to employ for the task at hand.
"But, Mr. Leslie, please. I won't be able to sit for days."
He ignored her and swished the flogger.
"Ms. Wilson, we both have no doubt about the pleasure of sensual flagellation
that's about to take place. It might excite us to the point where we might lose
our reserve." he said, bemused.
Leslie was right and she braced herself for the beating she knew would bring her
to debase herself further. He stood behind her, massive and looming, with a
bulge in the front of his trousers that betrayed his excitement.
"Ten is the traditional number, don't you agree?"
Lindsay nodded just as the first blow struck her luscious apple bottom across
the crack. A shout shattered his concentrated efforts.
"Now, now, we can't have any of that." he said critically. "You only have nine
more to go."
The next few strokes and she relinquished her struggle to a submissive state of
bliss and her sense of shame and exposure only served to enhance the experience
. As Leslie counted the strokes, the stings became less painful and a numbing
warmth spread across her bum. Her mind, now liberated from the pain,
substituted pleasure. She was sad when the beating ended.
His glinted glasses gleamed with steam. His chest heaved with exertion. He
removed his jacket and loosened his belt.
"I knew it would come to this," he said, as he shrugged his shoulders with
resignation. He stood in front of her with expectation.
Lindsay gently squeezed his pants to find a handful of large genitals.
"Yes" he hissed.
She knelt and slowly unzipped his pants. Lindsay watched his face while her
fingers caressed his stubby stick. Although it bloomed to a full blown hard-on,
there was a lot of skin to stroke. The loathsome sight of the dirty old man's
genitals was arousing and had an erotic impact on her. It was only then she
realized she was going to enjoy it whether she wanted to or not. He sank
languidly into his chair, his cock waving from his fly.
"This is going to take awhile young lady and call me Sir while you do it." he
said.
"Yes sir," she replied meekly and rolled her eyes.
Amused that his face was red with passion, Lindsay curled her finger and thumb
against his mast and tugged it while fondling his wrinkled balls. His cock
throbbed as he stared at her marbled bottom.
Leslie unleashed her breasts and twisted her nipples. Mewling as he molested
her breasts, she stopped to wrest his signature on the contract.
Instead, he took her by the nape of her neck and pushed her head to meet his
dick. Lindsay helplessly jerked away, but to no avail. It was inevitable. She
had to suck him.
His cock was shiny, red, and taut. Taking the tip into her mouth, she licked
the seam along its back until her lips reached the bottom of his ball sack. She
gagged as the swollen shaft reached insistently for her throat. It was hard for
her to move back and forth with her neck so tightly restrained. He enjoyed her
discomfort as he held her firmly.
Moving expertly along the length of his cock, she flicked around the corona. As
the pungent musk of the squirming worm increased her ardor, the wet, slippery
sounds of fellatio permeated the room. She felt his cock pulse. Leslie growled
as he pulled out the pulsing rod and spurted sticky jism on her pretty face.
Lindsay's face had the expression of someone caught between heaven and hell.
She teetered on the edge of a crest. Lindsay looked up at him with pleading
eyes for a sign of recognition that her fires were burning hot. Straddling his
shoe without permission, she wrapped her arms around his leg and felt the warmth
and strength of him. Her nether lips opened like a flower. Lindsay moaned with
the intense surge of lust that raced through her body.
She rocked her hips against his boot and made the leather slick. Her eyes were
tightly shut when the familiar rush hit her. She clutched his leg for balance
and ground her bud onto the tip of his shoe. Lightning bolts filled her head as
she exploded. She thrust again and again until her pussy was raw, then,
exhausted, she fell across his lap. He patted her on the head, lowered her
shivering body gently to the floor, and waited for her revival.
Lindsay managed to conceal revulsion at the coats of cum all over her face.
Then, taking care of business, she thoroughly licked his dick and balls clean
and put them humbly back in his pants.
"You look very lovely on your knees, Ms. Wilson."
With fire in her eyes, she firmly grabbed his balls and said "Sign!"
Before he could pull up his zipper, his John Hancock was on the dotted line.
"Let's do some business again, shall we?" he said as if nothing had occurred.
Lindsay nodded, disturbed that she thoroughly enjoyed the rough treatment from a
complete stranger for a signature. He smiled at her embarrassment and winked at
the camcorder.
Note from author: Thanks for reading. Let me know if you liked this story. It
will encourage me to write some more.
