Page 13 of His Naughty Secretary

Fun? Could that word have anything to do with this feeling? It seemed so much greater, so much more essential. And how could it be ‘fun’ for me to learn how desperately I needed to yield myself to my boss’ every humiliating whim? To know that I would have to be bare, down there, from now on, because he liked a girl’s cunt to be smooth for him? To know that from now on I would serve as Mr. Alden’s submissive fuck toy, to be used, panties down, however and whenever he wanted to have ‘fun’ with my helpless body?

And yet as I felt his hands move to encircle my waist over the naughty garter belt, and I understood that he intended to keep my private part just where he liked it, for thrusting in at full length, I felt a little glimmer of an unexpected, even shocking joy. It hardly seemed possible, but a splinter of me, somewhere in the far distance, could see what Mr. Alden meant about fun: it… well, it seemed kind of like a game, almost.

I felt my eyes go wide at the thought… and then even wider because the huge, stiff shaft of my new boss’ erection thrust hard into my needy vagina. I tried to rise, even to get away, because the pleasure crashed through my body so violently that it felt like pain, too—like Mr. Alden fucking me actually represented the culmination of my punishment rather than a reward for accepting it, or even a simple sequel to it, decreed by him because he had gotten aroused in paddling me, and had the right to satisfy his lust in his new secretary’s cunt.

He kept me in the posture he wanted, moving his right hand to the small of my back, atop my bra strap, to forbid me from straightening more than a centimeter. He entered me at full length, until I felt his muscular lap come up against my paddled bottom cheeks. Then he held himself inside me, filling me—possessing me.

Desperately, shamefully, I tried to move on his hardness. His grip on my waist prevented me from finding more than a tiny bit of the friction I craved. I sobbed in frustration and humiliation. I tried again, and Mr. Alden held me even more tightly.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll decide.”

His hand stroked my back, taming me… soothing me. The primal nature of what he had done, crouching over me to ravish me in my slutty lingerie, like an animal in harness, sent a wave of heat surging through my body. I felt my vagina contract around his huge cock and I cried out as again the pleasure seemed so intense it became almost painful.

“Shh. You need a good, hard fucking, don’t you?”

Something in the tone of his voice brought back to my mind the strange idea I had found a moment ago, before all thought had flown away with the deep thrust of his hardness into me. A game… a joyful game. One we play together.

I bit my lip. I hadn’t responded to his question, had I? The wand’s effect had gone away, and yet here I was, even more naked than I would have felt without the lacy red underwear, obedient under the hands and the manhood of my new boss. A game?

“Oh, God…” I moaned. “Oh… sir…”

The word had come out on its own, without the compulsion from the wand.

“Answer me,” Mr. Alden commanded. “Do you need a good, hard fucking, you little slut?”

I could hear it, somehow, in his voice. He meant it—he meant the degradation and he meant the dominance—and yet he still wanted me to have fun, too.

“Yes, sir,” I sobbed.

CHAPTER 9

Ingrid

His left hand tightened on my waist. The garter belt dug into my hip a little, reminding me how naughty a girl I had decided to be when I had put on the lacy red lingerie that morning. I felt him start to fuck me, to enjoy me, to give me what I needed. The warm, stiff length of him receded and then slammed back into my vagina so forcefully that I could feel how firmly his hands held me, ensuring that the cunt he meant to use stayed exactly where he wanted it.

His upper thighs and his hips slapped against my bottom like a reminder of my paddling. The sensation inside my womb and the yawning need for more of it, all of it, seemed to dwarf the lingering soreness from the paddle. The warmth in my backside, though, reinforced the pleasure—and at the same time the memory of how I had gotten punished for disobedience… how I had been made to take off my clothes anyway… how I had ended up with my face in the carpet and my new boss’ rigid penis in my needy vagina… it came together to make me feel faint with lust.

I kept trying to move my hips, instinctively attempting to match Mr. Alden’s hard, rapid thrusting into me. I realized distantly that in fact my body tried all the harder because he held me so firmly in place. With a hot blush I realized that I wanted to feel restrained.

I cried out as I understood, and the cry seemed to make Mr. Alden thrust even harder into me. I had never been fucked like this, of course; I hadn’t even known that a man could possess a woman this way, or maybe I hadn’t understood that she could enjoy it, as shameful as that kind of pleasure felt.

An orgasm started to build inside me, like nothing I’d ever felt. The sheer embarrassment at the new fact that had become blindingly evident—that as much as I wanted to deny it, I liked my boss pounding his manhood into me like a wild animal ravaging his prey—fueled the need with incredible urgency. I knew I would come within a few seconds if Mr. Alden just kept fucking me.

My whole body tensed, and from somewhere I found an extra surge of strength so that when I pushed back against his next thrust, I actually managed to move a few centimeters and get his cock deeper inside me, so deep that I cried out at the breathtaking sensation. The little stab of discomfort reinforced the idea that Mr. Alden meant to punish me with his rigid penis, as much as to give me pleasure.

I cried out again, trying to push up on my elbows out of sheer instinct, to change the angle at which the enormous shaft penetrated my desperate sheath. Mr. Alden clearly liked that angle just as it was, though; he pressed down on my back hard to keep me in place.

“Are you going to come, Ingrid?” he growled. “Are you going to come on your boss’ cock?”

“Oh… oh, God…” I sobbed. Suddenly I felt as if maybe I didn’t want to let the orgasm happen… as if it would simply be too mortifying to yield to him that way, with the utter helplessness of the ecstasy that seemed to rush toward me like a tidal wave.

He withdrew his manhood until only the head remained inside me, and he stopped there.

“Oh, no…” I moaned. Helpless and humiliating or not, I needed to come much, much too badly to do anything but beg. “Please… please, sir…”

“I asked you a question, you little slut. Are you going to come on my cock now?”

“Yes!” I sobbed. “Yes, sir!”

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