Dislikes Slavery Excessively
Rafe, have you accomplished your responsibility with the press remark? Naomi, a humble woman with a dark brown complexion, questioned.
"Hmm, let me try to recall," I said thoughtfully, looking back at our project panel, "which one was it exactly?"
"Errr, it's not written on there. Oh! I forgot to put it there!" Naomi hastily approached me, "But we discussed it last Wednesday with Sarah, and agreed to release it tomorrow, that's why..."
"Whoa," while seated, I lifted my head to search her eyes, "I most likely would recall a meeting with Sarah..."
"Umm, you weren't summoned." She mumbled closer, "Sarah hates you for your attitude! Says you're plagued with micro-aggressions!"
"..."
"What?"
"So if I wasn't at that discussion... And there's no chore assigned to me... Then how was I presumed to..."
"Never mind that! Forget it!"
"But-"
"Cease with your disruptive questioning!"
"Um, you dismissed me from the assembly. And then there's no co-assignment for me."
"Again with your inquisitive nature! Forget it! Aziza, can you complete it?"
"Yes, I can!"
"Great, thank you!"
I listened to Naomi's high heels stomp the flooring as she triumphantly exclaimed "Darn white people! Why can't they function without assistance? That's why they invented slavery!"
By my side, Aziza had prepared her mobile to tape a video.
"And then... I acquire my java..."
"Oh. And then I gain my java!"
"Is that still this outdated habit of narrating one's daily duties?"
Determined to focus on my actual obligations for the day, I concentrated on my task. Naomi's chatter kept intruding on my thoughts.
"White people are the most horrid! I only recently learned how they mistreated slaves, and it's unnerving!"
"And then... I procure my java..."
"Excuse me, everyone. Has anyone thoughts of consuming a bagel?"
"Proceed, I'm in!"
"She's planning to skip shower now to compensate," Aziza giggled.
"What?"
"She cycled to the workplace this morning, so won't make up for it with a shower."
"Dang. They were viciously raping black slaves using those large white genitals, right in front of their fellow slaves. They did this intentionally to break their spirits. Truly disheartening, it gives me the shivers!"
I couldn't help amusement. I'm far from an authority in history, but after she joined, Naomi constantly harped on white people's tyranny throughout history, how they trifled black folks "trying to dominate blacks throughout the entirety of history", "forcing them to carry out degrading tasks", and so forth.
That was until she inadvertently stepped into the incorrect changing room at our workplace gym, and found me exposed from a recent shower. My towel hung from the locker door, so dashing quickly to hide would be inelegant. So I simply stood there, expecting her to leave. Instead, she fixed her gaze on me, scrutinizing the body parts I typically concealed from my colleagues. I had to clarify I was in the wrong room, and that she shouldn't peep, before she scurried away.
Since then Naomi had driven me and the team up the wall, repeatedly invading my personal space, nitpicking, and shifting task expectations. Her jeremiads about dreadful white people started incorporating references to large white cocks doing unspeakable deeds to black slaves.
It was flattering, if not overly aggravating.
I slapped on my headphones, selected a "Playback: You Are the Sworn Enemy Cheated to Devastate the World" list, and began to identify. The atmosphere around me reflected it more each day.
***
A day drifted by, and our small yet varied team tackled the tribulations of a corporate realm - gracefully, akin to a freight ship maneuvering between docks. There were conversations full of mumbling, frantic gatherings due to Naomi's mismanagement of assignment obligations and timings, people coming and going, videos taped, and emails sent.
Yet none of that mattered. Our team could be sacked without any effect on the company (which I'd rather not mention as it's too widely known). The whole division could be shuttered and the company wouldn't be aware. And, should our building be nuked from above, hardly anything of significance would be destroyed for the company.
When I signed up, I believed it to be my lucky moment since they offered a relocation package, and I desired to revisit the homeland of my forefathers. Ideally, working with one of the giant corporations was a practical decision. Here I am instead, ensconced in the world's highly-paid longhouse, sustaining slivers of sanity in the face of insipid daily tasks. I'd been anticipating my impending dismissal due to my "toxic high performance" that supposedly discomforts other coworkers.
***
In spite of finishing the day with satisfactory results and attempting to upload them, I encountered a technical problem. Our enterprise was hindered because of a defunct button - yet it wasn't the fault of the button but rather...
"Raffael, could you help me?" Naomi appeared, displaying an exhausted expression, "It's about that same button..."
Certainly. The latest adjustment derailed my teammates' tests, and despite their exit, the demonstration was scheduled for the following day.
"Hm... does it say what the issue is on the screen?" I inquired.
Before I could respond, the door's deafening slamming interrupted us. "...Then I go, just in time, to obtain a smoothie..." I overheard Naomi mutter.
She depended on me, the solely individual she felt could sense the value of our project.
"All right, let's go over this together..."
"Yay!"
Naomi stood right next to me, her chest nearly touching my shoulder as I launched the editor. As projected, some meaningless code was pasted from a random internet site with no regard for its implications.
Impossible you say? Yet Aziza had effortlessly circumvented all the security precautions, reviews, and tests while filming her Tiktok video. One hand did it! Her skills were outstanding.
Wouldn't it be beneficial to harness this talent?
As I endeavored to rectify the issue, which was buried in countless options, I realized that scarcely any users would encounter this button, much less click it.
Naomi hovered behind me, diligently offering suggestions, correcting herself, and clarifying her intentions. Annoyance did not ascend, considering she occasionally provided relevant insights. Her waving arm, swinging past my face, trailed a pleasant scent - a light floral perfume that enveloped her body. She was constantly wearing countless perfumes.
In any case, I was unattached. After a heart-shattering breakup, I found myself unable to sympathize with any woman who insisted on calling her lingerie "knickers."
***
We waited while I fixed the faulty code. Naomi hovered by my desk, elbows resting on the surface, her hair concealing her face.
"Done!" I exclaimed, turning, "You will be fine for your presentation!"
As Naomi continued to gaze at the screen, I caught a glimpse into her cleavage. Was one of those tiny breast cups designed to make you scrutinize her bosom? A compelling aroma of flowers slowly enveloped me. She must have been wearing perfume - her bodily odor was overwhelming.
How odd - my gaze dropped to her bosom. Upon being caught, she abruptly arose, coughed and fidgeted with her sweater. Apparently embarrassed, she plucked at her chest as if her clothes were suddenly revealing too much. Her cheeks tinted a dull color. Despite her brown skin tone, a blush seemed evident. Her mumbling of "Uhm, yes, thank you" rung out before she hightailed it to her cubicle. As I turned away, I noticed Naomi's swaying hips betraying her be-bra'd backside.
"What a success, Rafael!" I marveled, "You managed to offend your boss while acting like a creep - your next appraisal is destined to be exceptional!"
However, I repaired the issue free of charge, saving Naomi from escalating the situation and writing formal evaluations of the ordeal. This must surely win praise, right?
***
Nope. Following the presentation, Sarah complimented Aziza's superior performance while scolding me for the wrong bullet designs I used on a job, disregarding our branding guidelines.
Apparently, Naomi not only agreed with Sarah but also expressed her distress working with an incapable, combative individual like myself. [2]
I continued to smile and nod as an apology. Any other response would have landed me in hot water.
A series of thoughts culminated in a plan. If they wanted to treat me like this, why should I act any differently? But I couldn't act on it right away; I needed more time and research to prepare.
The following week was a torture as Naomi pestered me at my desk with her constant comments and demands for explanation. It left me contemplating - was I crazy for considering such an extreme plan? Shouldn't I just keep going as it was?
On Tuesday, during a meeting, I brought up the issue of Naomi's new tasks requirements being unclear, and she broke down in tears. This earned me a written reprimand from HR and enrollment in a four-hour-long sensitivity training, which I had to complete alongside my regular tasks and responding to colleague requests.
That sealed it – if there was no way to win this game, then I'd end it in a blaze.
The wait until Friday felt eternal.
To my surprise, Naomi became slightly more professional in her approach for a few days. She ceased her intrusions and stopped her obnoxious remarks.
When I entered Francois Donatien's room, wearing a suit and tie on Friday, she actually complimented me on my fashion sense. She didn't know yet that the suit was worn for her.
I walked around nervously in the isolated room. The deadline was fast approaching.
I had invited Naomi for a brief one-on-one, booking the room until evening. I figured that she wouldn't verify the booking. I had picked this room due to its location. A soundproof room located behind a now closed canteen, secluded in the office, was the ideal choice should one wish for undisrupted privacy.
Amidst everything, I noticed something, there was always an extra intensity in Naomi's hatred, an overemphasis on minor details inappropriate in a professional setting.
I recalled a girl who had said, "I should NEVER under ANY circumstances near try to kiss me, as I hate your guts." She then collapsed and cried on Valentine's Day, and I'd been unaware of her true feelings until her friends shared it with me, calling me an insensitive jerk.
Another girl had declared, "NO!" when I tried to convince her, despite my attempts at wooing her.
Finally, there was one who flirted with me, but her actions held no true significance.
Hence, I was gambling here with uncertain odds, and a potential misstep would cost me severely -
"Sorry, I'm late," Naomi entered hastily, gripping a notepad, "Crazy day! And I even forgot where…this...room..." She jolted, fixating her gaze on the table.
"Hey, what... is that?!" she trailed off, stunned.
"Hey, Naomi," I conversationally replied, "We need to talk."
"No, what the HELL is THAT?!" Naomi gazed at the necklace, leash, name tags, and a length of high-quality rope I'd laid out.
"Is this some kind of enslaving apparatus?"
"Yes."
"Oh!"
Naomi's eyes glued to the collar, leash, name tags, and coil of rope on the table, breathing harshly.
"Naomi, I'm open about this. You're an intelligent and clever lady, and I enjoy our time at work together, albeit brief. But I am fed up with your lack of self-control and continual offensive comments. I think it's time we do something about it."
"And you thought THAT... that... table... what..." she stuttered.
"That you can exit the room, alert HR, and have me fired and removed from the premises in a snap," my statement went unacknowledged.
"You're such a moron, how did you not..."
"Or," I cut in, "you could disrobe, adorn this," I gestured towards the table, "and we'll see if I can help you mend your ways."
Stunned, dressed in her daily blouse and trousers, Naomi stood at the door, her chest heaving with her inhales. She appeared amazed...and perplexed, more so than I'd ever seen her before.
"Here's your final warning," she tried to maintain a cold, confident demeanor, "get me out of this situation. I mean, leave me alone, take this all away, and I might forgive you."
She attempted to lock eyes with me while placing her notebook on a nearby cupboard, but her shaking hand gave her away.
"No," I responded. I'm not turning back now; it wouldn't make a difference either way.
We exchanged glares. What was she thinking at the moment? I exposed no emotions on my face, while she was awash with turmoil. Was I right in my assumption, or am I just a self-important creep?
Determined, Naomi blinked first, unable to endure my scrutiny.
"What," she panted, "do you think you can violate me? Enslave me? Force me to submit to you sexually and humiliate me publicly as..."
"I won't touch you without your consent. You can stop me at any time. And I promise that whatever happens here will be between us, not affecting anything outside this room."
Naomi hesitated. I remained immobile, equating her gaze between my face, my polished leather shoes, and the gear I'd prepared for her that day. The door was directly behind her.
"How..." she waved, "I'm not..."
Her mind was a battlefield. She could leave the room and get me fired from her team. In our work, no one is irreplaceable, it wouldn't be a loss. I'm sure the management would offer her a massive settlement just to contain this "racist" case of "office sexual harassment" from leaking to the public. She could have everything - but was that what she truly desired?
"You!!!", "How can..." her breathing slowed. From this short encounter and the turmoil consuming her, her strength seemed to wane.
An exhausted black woman looked me in the eye once more. She released a breath, almost in a sob.
Her hand moved. Slowly unbuttoning her blouse, one by one, she undid them. With a shrug, my boss cast her blouse to the ground.
I remained motionless, showing no sign of emotion on my face. I wasn't triumphant, I wasn't amused, I wasn't laughing at her - I simply observed her, providing her with comfort.
Her hands removed her shirt from the bottom and over her head, joining her blouse on the floor.
Naomi kicked off her sneakers - one to the left, one to the right. Her hands unbuckled her trousers, allowing them to fall as she walked closer to me.
She didn't argue but approached me, her last doubt discarded. "Is that enough?" I questioned. Not yet. Her delicate lace bra and white panties were an odd sight on her dark skin. It wasn't the proper attire for this scenario.
I remained silent, and Naomi conceded. She reached for her back. I heard a subtle clicking sound and her bra joined her clothing on the floor. seconds later, her panties followed suit.
"Very good," I noted.
Naomi stood uneasily, unsure how to proceed, even though she had nothing to be ashamed of.
Her slender frame lacked any excessive weight. She exercised regularly and had a fit body. Her small (probably A-cup?) breasts were covered in dark areolas, standing firm and slightly erect.
Who could've guessed she'd become a captivating beauty when she removed her clothes?
"Come here," I signaled.
Trusting my instruction, Naomi stepped toward me without hesitation. With her last stride, she knelt on the floor.
"Smart move," I praised. Seizing the opportunity. "Now, I'll put this collar around your neck," I picked up the collar.
After much deliberation, I'd ordered a black leather adjustable collar with a red satin lining. It was attractive on both visual appearance and touch and wouldn't cause any allergic reactions.
Naomi appeared hypnotized, her eyes locked on the collar poised to mark her neck. I swayed it in front of her face, and her eyes followed, her mouth agape.
She shivered from the softness of the satin on her neck. I fastened the collar, ensuring it wouldn't dangle loosely or choke her, and then gazed into her eyes.
The wide, dark eyes stared back at me, full of submission. Though she had vehemently protested against slavery earlier, she appeared unusually aroused by the idea of wearing a collar.
In her fierce crusade to exclude "challenging" words from everyday language, she deemed "Master" as a top contender.
***(
"So," I fastened the leash, "Let's outline some guidelines as we stroll."
I jerked, and my manager complied, creeping on all fours, her gaze fixated on the leash in my hand.
"Whatever occurs during this session will be kept between us, unless agreed otherwise," we passed the chair.
"You will address me as 'Master', whatever I instruct is mandatory. You have the liberty to declare 'No', which would cause me to cease any given action. You can say 'Cease' and I'll abandon the situation entirely, never to be seen by you even if I have to step down from my position. We may consider "safe words" in the upcoming conversations."
I failed to understand the allure of using coded stop words opposed to plainly stating "stop", yet perhaps I was overlooking something.
As I prepared to engage in an uncharted endeavor, I questioned why I hadn't sought experience prior. Was it a desire to safeguard my first experience from anyone, or to avoid confessing that this was a genuine intent?
Regardless, it was a fait accompli. We turned, and I led the way to the door, examining-- would Naomi trust me, or would she refuse me?
Her muscles tensed as we neared the entrance, but she remained silent. I stood just a footstep away, and Naomi paused, paralyzed by my stance. If any coworker happened to walk by at that precise moment, they'd come across an incredibly unnerving scene.
Carefully, I reached for the door handle. Naomi stiffened, yet stayed silent. I wiped the handle, then turned around, compelling Naomi forward me. I could tolerate her declining my orders, but this was a cordial ending nonetheless.
***
I sensed Naomi harbored anxiety about something as we trekked back towards the middle desk.
"Anything you'd like to share?"
"Yes... Master, we don't have much time..."
"I've reserved this room until late in the evening. You'll be undisturbed, and I've evaluated your schedule − you won't have any critical meetings to skip today."
"Ah... fantastic!"
Naomi exhaled, a broad smile gracing her countenance.
Were her concerns solely about her calendar?
She sounded hoarse, so I decided to retrieve a glass of water, presenting it to her and allowing her to drink thirstily. Drinking water while I command her to crawl at my feet is an odd, yet comforting experience.
Her thirst quenched, Naomi nodded her thanks.
Now, it's time for the unpleasant part.
"Consider the mess you've made," I chastened her, nodding to her scattered apparel. Naomi's eyes widened, and she averted her gaze. Recognizing that I'd need to gather and organize her clothing, I retrieved every item and neatly arranged it on a chair.
"The next time, you will handle this responsibility yourself!""Yes, master... I'm sorry, master."
"Now," I pulled Naomi towards another chair, "it's time to select your title."
I presented an array of tags adorned with names, ranging from "Princess" to "Thing" and "Slave". I was eager to determine her preference. In addition, I prepared to halt her if she attempted to utilize her hands.
To my surprise, Naomi displayed zeal. She pressed her nose into one of the tags, then attempted to bite it off and thrust it in my direction. Befuddled, but pleased with her enthusiasm, I accepted the presented option.
"Good girl," Naomi beamed, evidently enamored with her decision. And so, she will be christened "The Property of Rafael", an unexpected but fitting moniker. I replaced the leash leash with the engraved tag affixed to her collar.
***
"Now, let's inspect 'My Property', shall we? Crawl on the table. No standing!"
Naomi pondered this intricate dilemma before approaching a chair -- she mounted, hands first, then knees, before utilizing them to steadily pull her body up. Despite the table's elevation, she apparently offered a magnificent vista. I was captivated by her arousal.
Via her contemplative steps, Naomi managed to seat herself on the round tabletop. She appeared perplexed and embarrassed in comparison to the unfeeling, empty desk. This was a shockingly enticing discovery.
Determined to observe her response to my instruction, I beckoned. Naomi considered her predicament and replicated the method employed in the previous chair, carefully placing her hands on the desk and hoisting her knees, ready to transfer her weight. As she prepared to elevate herself, her legs separated, offering me a stunning view.***
I ordered her to face the window and widen her knees. She obeyed, bending backward and holding her ankles with both hands. She was forced to either close her eyes or stare at the dazzling light of a lamp.
The scene was breathtaking! I strolled around, taking my time. Below was a bustling street with colleagues, office visitors, and random passersby going about their daily tasks. Although office windows are reflective from the outside, and even window cleaners would struggle to see inside another office in a glass and concrete building, it didn't matter to Naomi. She felt vulnerable, defenceless, and completely at my mercy.
And she reveled in it. I hadn't even touched her yet, but she was already panting and biting her lower lip. Her skin glowed pink contrasting against her ebony complexion, and her vagina was soaking wet with fluids, completely visibile. She had nowhere to hide or deny it.
I moved a chair and sat facing her.
"You possess a valuable asset, your body is beautiful. Now, explain why you need to be disciplined."
Naomi opened her eyes wide with surprise, focusing on the lamp and closing them again.
"Erm... I guess... I'm lacking discipline?"
"That's what I said."
"And I'm a fake, a messy individual?"
"Naomi, look at me."
She attempted to move her head towards me, bending down resulted in a double chin, so I instructed her to kneel on all fours instead. She happily adjusted, presenting her naked bum towards the door as she crawled on a desk.
"I don't need to repeat - and misinterpret - my words. If you could share your thoughts, why do you require discipline?"
Naomi's eyes darted between me and the carpet.
"I don't... I... Ah, why even bother? You already know that, don't you?" she glanced at me with a shocked face, like a diver facing a print and deciding to jump into the coldest part of the ocean. "I'm just a phony lady with credentials and papers who sits in a place she does not belong. People question me and I don't care, I can't care because deep down I long to belong to someone. I simply want someone to tell me what to do, to command me, to use me! After being bombarded by thoughts and decisions, I am tired of having to think and decide!"
Naomi turned away, wiping sweat from her forehead.
"I've been dreaming of someone who could see my inner soul, who might either support or despise me and I just, I'm your superior, but I wanted to stay near, but you sometimes made me feel like a simple black girl, oblivious to the complex world around me."
"That's enough," I admitted after some time. "There is no need for shame. You simply need assistance. To begin with, hold this leash for me. Will you?"
She nodded enthusiastically, looking me in the eye as she bit the leash. I ensured the leash was secure before letting go.
"Don't let it fall under any circumstances. You understand?"
To be honest, I might have made her hold it to prevent her from speaking anymore.
If I collected my most derogatory and insulting thoughts, I still wouldn't have reached the level of Naomi's spontaneous outbursts. What preoccupied this lady's mind?
I had once worried about what would happen if she did not submit to me. I was genuinely troubled about my inability to live up to her expectations now that she had. Forward we go!
"I am going to slap you... I'll give you... fifteen times. Hold on tight."
Unlike me, Naomi seemed at ease and content. Possibly she was relieved by the opportunity to express herself without judgement.
Naomi enthusiastically wiggled her bum in preparation. Can't let my boss down now, can I?
Just like a feline, Naomi flip-flopped her body in a show of dominance, allowing easy access for me. I couldn't resist the temptation any longer and took full advantage of her offer. I embraced the challenge of massaging and squeezing her round posterior. Her body language indicated she was onboard with my desire.
The first smack resounded as she relaxed with a yelp from her. Next, I launched a heavier strike on the other cheek, prompting a sharp inhalation from Naomi. Yet, the left cheek still yearned for attention. I aimed for it this time but failed miserably. My hand collided with Naomi's backside at a strange angle, which caused her to giggle playfully.
"Is that your preferred approach?" I questioned.
This time, I prepared myself and took a step back to gather more strength. My aim was true as I delivered a punishment that could've brought an entire church to their knees; the loud clap echoed across the room.
"U-U-UGGH!!!" cried Naomi, her teeth sank into the leash, forcing salty tears to run down her face.
Oops, perhaps I foolishly pushed a tad too far. Holding my hand in anticipation of Naomi's reaction, I pondered if she would consider ending this endeavor.
Naomi surprised me. Steadying her breath, she changed positions, widen her knees more, placed her forearms on the table and buried her head into it. Her backside was now exposed, revealing the ring of her anus, while becoming all the more vulnerable.
A determined "M-hmp!" gives me the green light.
"Now, that's commendable!" I remarked and heard a chuckle in response.
So we were back to twelve more spanks.
***
Synchronizing with Naomi, I started spanking at a rhythm. Swing and aim carefully, each cheek receiving equal attention.
Naomi's moans and grunts amplified with each swat, yet the rope remained steadily clenched in her mouth, which surprised me. Beads of sweat decorated Naomi's back. I found out that her dark skin doesn't obtain a reddish hue from the spanking but becomes even darker. This was quite fascinating.
With the fifteenth spank, my hand made contact near her genitals, causing a surprised yelp and a moan. The air filled with the smell of arousal, Naomi's moisture became impossible to ignore.
Amidst the silence, Naomi's labored pulses and my computer's sleep mode were the only sounds present in the room.
I meandered back to the front and tenderly caressed her face. As her head lifted, she glanced at me and tugged the leash back out of her mouth. The leash's surface was slick with her tongue marks and a bead of saliva connected it to her lips. Gently, I used my finger to clear her saliva away and then caressed her cheek. Naomi leaned forward to embrace my touch.
***
"I appreciate your efforts. As my possession, you did well." Naomi grinned. "It's around time for a treat... but, there's one hiccup," she sighed.
"What's bothering my humble servant?" I inquired.
"Indicate how inefficient your presence has kept me from reaching my destination." I fetched a different type of rope tied in two loops earlier and splashed it with water. Uncertain of its effectiveness, I experimented on my right arm, which resulted in a lingering burning sensation.
"Master, I was delayed for five painfully long minutes!"
For five minutes? Arrogant cow!
"You see, we are here to assist each other in our growth. Do not let minor obstacles prevent you from attaining your goals."
"Yes, Master," Naomi sheepishly admitted, "I understand."
"And?" [You did well for my property. Now it's time for a treat, if only... hmm..."]"Ah, Master, I was late to work today."
"That is correct. In that case, we must conduct a lesson on time management immediately!" I whispered, recalling I'd brought along a whip-like rope.
Naomi froze.
"Master, I apologize for making you wait. Due to a very dull meeting and a few other things, I was unable to make it on time." She faltered slightly with her words.
"My dear, what I find impressive is your capacity to handle setbacks with poise. You took the reins to ensure you avoid causing further problems with your tardiness. Time is of the essence and every second counts."
"Yes, Master," Naomi responded, unwillingly.
"So now, eleven spanks await you. I've spanked you 15 times, implying that you owe me five more. Adding to how long you've made me wait as well as being thankful for my guidance with your time management, we finally have our total count."
"Yes, Master," Naomi sighed, accepting her lack of initiative and the upcoming corporal punishment.
I appreciate your assistance in my task.
"And?"
"Thanks for whipping me and showing me how to behave, Sir."
"Excellent! Now it's time to get going!"
I had plans to employ rope for bondage and even discovered some straightforward harness approaches, yet now I had doubts if I could accomplish them without error and not sporting myself. In addition, there was something oddly fulfilling about spanking my boss right in our office's center during daylight, and I desired to explore this farther!
Naomi gasped when the initial strike touched her shoulders, yielding vertical marks on her dark skin. A second stroke at the edge of a rib cage prompted her to yelp, one more at her obliques - to shriek.
The final two I reserved for her already wounded buttocks, I was curious how severely she could handle it. Naomi shrieked at the fourth bout. The last thrust left her collapsed, sobbing.
Despite all this, I actually felt slightly sympathetic towards her.
"There, that's it, girl. You did great."
"Am I... actually a subjugated... black woman now?" she requested between sobs.
I surveyed the bruises I'd given her. Vertical lines from neck to lower back, what does this bring to mind?
"I believe you seem... more like a tigress now!"
"Grrr..." Naomi joked, then contemplated. "I like that..." she mumbled while gingerly rising. "I'm a ferocious tigress! Who happened to be taken prisoner and collared by a clever white man. Will you instruct me in performance?" there, her joyful demeanor resurfaced.
"At this arena we call our workplace? Oh, I'll show you much more than that!" I patted and mussed her hair, "Yet, for this day, I believe you merit a little gift!"
***
I ordered Naomi to rotate about, facing the entrance while mutual her back towards me (and the window). To claim she was aroused would be an understatement. She remained moist throughout the entire session, but now her inner lips were even more engorged, considering her "gift". She didn't require instructions to expand her legs and arch her back.
"I said I won't touch you without approval..."
"Oh, Master, you can..."
"Don't obstruct me!" I spanked her once, to remind her of her position, "however, you might help yourself if you want."
With that, I extended my arm and positioned it directly below her damps pussy. Near enough to feel her heat, but not close enough to actually stimulate her. After all, I'm not some pervert trying to pose a threat to his female boss by grabbing her private parts. If she wants to - she's got to do it herself.
Naomi hesitated for a moment. Nonetheless, a perplexing puzzle to tackle, whilst her stimulated body and mind clamored for fulfillment.
Then, with a deep guttural moan, she lunged, rubbing her vagina against my palm. She returned, and oh my, I'd never seen a woman this drenched before! Her fluids soaked my wrist and even my shirt and suit.
Naomi began rocking her body, swaying her hips, and forcibly rubbing herself onto my fingers. Her moans resembled cries, she ceased worrying about who might be observing.
Out of mischief, I relocated my thumb, causing it to face her anus. Now, if she shifts her hips excessively, she could...
Naomi didn't care about that either, she impaired herself on my thumb and continued rocking. She was frenzied, and her moans escalated in sound, her body beginning to tremble as she approached orgasm.
By accident, I gently slid my hand out and beneath, causing Naomi to betray an audible groan. She returned and frantically attempted to touch my hand, which I permitted.
Now Naomi was practically wagging her hips, her buttocks shaking as she rubbed her core against my hand in quick, rapid motions. Naomi panted aggressively. She would approach orgasm much faster if I'd allowed it. Now, again - I controlled this, frivolously tormenting her for fun. Before another jerk that might send her past the edge, I removed my hand. Naomi's mournful bellow of my little petite coworker could truly terrify the fiercest lioness!
"M-master? I'm sorry?"
"Simply so. Absolutely. Present!" I said, enraged, "I'm not searching for a lewd office relationship!" Naomi's eyes grew wider, as I dominated her face. "We are... right... here... for discipline. To install you in your position. And to guide you to be a superior individual!"
"U-understood, Master..."
I don't know where my sudden burst of anger came from. But I do. During all this, I kept myself aroused. I wanted to release my cock and plunge it into her – it didn't matter where. I also wanted to throat fuck her while gripping her by the hair just as much as I'd enjoy ravishing her delicate pussy or forcing my cock deep into her cute ass.
But Naomi wanted this! Perhaps I sound insane but I wasn't going to give it to her easily. Otherwise, it would be her who was in control - even if this control came from below! And that's not what I'm here for. I'm the one in charge, and I decide if and when she's worthy of having my cock.
Naomi kept staring into my eyes, scared to even breathe too loudly. Fine. I eased my grip on her collar, allowing her to sit back at her desk. With my other hand, I reached across her body, between her legs. Like before, I placed my hand on her cunt. Naomi started humping my fingers almost instinctively, her body moving on its own, as her confused, horny mind wandered too far.
"If you want to see my cock again..."
Naomi increased her pace, releasing occasional moans.
"...You'll have to work way, way harder than this..."
She spread her entire naked body on my hand – from her firm breasts to her wet pussy.
"...And only when you're properly trained..."
I pulled her closer by the collar and looked deeply into her eyes.
"...Only then will I make you mine..."
Naomi moaned louder, with her lips a mere inch away from mine, as she thrust her hips wildly against my hand.
"...And if you agree - you have..."
Her eyes rolled up as I pressed my fingers tightly against her clitoris.
"...My permission..."
I began to rotate my fingers, driving her past the point of no return.
"...To cum!"
Naomi screamed, then screamed again. Her entire body shook uncontrollably, from her head to her curled-up toes. She wrapped herself around my arm, then collapsed to the desk and dragged me after. Her screams turned into moans before eventually becoming deep breathing.
We lay on the desk. Using my free hand, I ran its fingers through her hair. Naomi simply hugged me tighter and gently caressed my shoulder. My fingers were still pressed against her clit, but when I tried to move them away, she clenched her thighs even tighter, trapping me.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed since we started. We'd begun with the sun still shining, and now the final lights of the week had faded.
Naomi softly whispered a "Thank you, Master." before finally letting go of me. She turned on her back and spread her arms and legs out. Her dark, naked skin contrasted beautifully with the wooden table.
I didn't linger, but I had no reason to stay either. So I casually put my belongings into my bag. My right sleeve was fully soaked in her fluids, but I simply covered it with a jacket – no big deal. I turned back before opening the doors. Naomi was still lying, with her legs spread wide and no embarrassment. Her perky breasts with erect nipples softly moved with each breath – not a care in the world.
"You did well... Naomi," I remarked. "Clean up before you go, and I'll see you next Monday."
With no more words to say, I walked out the door.
***
Our entire office building was practically deserted. I walked through the closed canteen, swiped my card on the door that separated the blocks, and made it into a common corridor. A few late co-workers strolled by. One intern was holding his mentor – Kate (she was known to me) – and desperately explaining how throwing out the entire code base and rebuilding it from scratch would undoubtedly correct that one minor glitch he encountered! Kate did a great job of restraining a grin. Upon seeing me, she winked and rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what was going on.
Beyond that, no one gave me a second glance, nor did they notice that I was carrying my backpack on my shoulder, or that my coat covered my soiled crotch. The working day had ended, and everyone was headed home or to the pub.
As I approached the final gates separating me from the street, I stopped abruptly. Oh shit, oh god! I'd forgotten to take the collar off Naomi before leaving! A slave isn't supposed to touch it without instruction. And I'd just left, oblivious to it. A rookie mistake!
Well, there's nothing to do about it now, right?
Of course Naomi could just take it off.
Why would she wear a collar that states I own her over a weekend?
I recognized that I was clueless about what might happen next. Occasionally, you simply follow your desires and pray for a favorable outcome. Now, the decision rests with Naomi. Despite her ability to have me fired or imprisoned, I proceeded with my plans. I enjoyed every moment of it and am willing to face the potential repercussions.
As I swiftly slid my credit card, I stepped through the metallic entranceway onto the asphalt.
Read also:
Source: www.nice-escort.de
