Domination Inc. (16 page)

‘Well, I think it'll run itself long enough for us to slope off to the pub for a while, so why don't we have a couple of drinks and then some dinner at that pasta place you like?' Joe suggested. ‘My treat.'

Eventually, Laurel nodded. ‘You're right. I've done everything I can for tonight. Why don't you go on ahead and get the drinks in, and I'll join you when I've locked up here and put some lipstick on.'

‘No problem,' Joe said, pleased that for once he seemed to have talked some sense into Laurel. He left the office and took the stairs down to ground level two at a time, already tasting the creamy, bitter tang of Guinness at the back of his throat.

 

Laurel stood at the window and watched Joe head out into the busy street below. She had powered down her computer, but instead of heading for the little washroom to freshen up as she had suggested, she went back to her chair and put her feet up on the desk. Joe's tale of his exploits with Natalie Wolf, combined with the suggestion that Warren was keen to get her into bed, had left a buzzing sensation in Laurel's sex.

It was an itch that needed scratching, and without being consciously aware of what she was doing, she hitched up her skirt with her right hand, her left stroking gently over her panty-clad pubis as her mind began to drift.

She imagined that Joe and Warren were standing before the desk, as she gave the two of them their assignments for the following day. Joe was scratching the back of his neck, apparently eager to head off to the pub, while Warren stared down at her impassively, his arms folded. She had chosen not to wear a bra beneath her ballet top, and was aware that the white cotton did not do all it might to conceal her disproportionately large apricot nipples.

‘Any questions?' Laurel asked. When neither man answered, she continued, ‘Well, if there's nothing more to say, we might as well all go home.'

‘But there is something to say.' It was Warren who spoke. ‘I think there are questions that should have been asked by you a long time ago, Laurel.'

‘Questions?' Laurel said, wondering where the conversation was heading.

‘Well, it seems to me that for someone who spends all day dealing with the needs of submissive women, you're singularly lacking in the experience of what those needs entail,' Warren replied. ‘I mean, when a client tells you she wants to be spanked till her bottom's all red and glowing, how can you be certain she's getting what she asks for? Joe and I seem to be doing a good job, the clients tell you they're satisfied, but you don't really know, do you, not for sure? And we think it's time you found out just how good a job we're doing. Grab her, Joe.'

Laurel had not realised until too late that as Warren had been speaking, Joe had been moving stealthily behind her. Now he caught hold of her arms and hauled her out of the chair, his strong grip ensuring that she did not fall.

She fought to free herself from Joe's grasp, but he held her firm as she wriggled. ‘What are the two of you playing at?' she asked, as Warren came to stand before her, sandwiching her between himself and Joe.

‘We're not playing at anything,' Warren replied. ‘We're deadly serious. We think it's finally time you got a good spanking – just so you're completely sure of what it entails, you understand.'

As Warren pressed her against the front of Joe's body, Laurel was aware that both men were already hard, Joe's cock snug in the small of her back and Warren's twitching and lengthening, as though it was seeking out the haven of her sex through the layers of clothing which separated them.

‘I think I know what a spanking involves,' Laurel said.

Warren shook his head. ‘I don't think so. Are you going to do the honours, or am I?' he asked Joe conversationally, ignoring Laurel's complaints.

‘You start, I can always join in later,' Joe replied.

While Joe continued to hold Laurel, Warren pulled her chair away from behind the desk, and placed it in the centre of the room. Then he sat down and motioned to Joe, who took Laurel over to him. Together they arranged her over Warren's knee.

She was still fighting them, trying to prevent whatever might be about to happen to her, but she was growing increasingly aware that she was only raising a token protest. At a subconscious level, she did want to know what it would feel like when Warren's hand came down on her backside. She knew that the victim was usually required to bare her bottom for this treatment, and her quim began to moisten at the thought that either he or Joe would strip her of her underwear before much longer.

What she did not expect was that Joe's hands would reach for the tie fastening of her top, loosening it and pulling it apart so that her naked breasts were visible to both men.

‘You've been hiding those beautiful tits of yours from us for too long,' Warren told her, as his hands caressed the full, creamy globes lovingly. ‘I think you should be made to go topless in the office every day. Just imagine that, Laurel, having to deal with everyone from Elisha and Cindy to any customers who might call in to the postman, with those big, juicy nipples of yours on display to whoever might want to touch or fondle them. What do you think, Joe?'

She had not believed Joe would collude so fully in Warren's schemes until her friend chipped in with, ‘I know she likes to order in sandwiches at lunchtime. I'd make her get them from the Italian deli round the corner, the one with the delivery boy who's just out of school. Imagine him coming up the stairs to be confronted with a luscious pair of boobs like Laurel's on show. I bet he'd come in his pants.'

‘Speaking of pants,' Warren said. ‘Do we let Laurel keep hers on?'

‘Yeah, if we don't want to give the lad a heart attack when she bends over to get her purse out of her handbag.'

Warren laughed, his fingers never leaving off the teasing games they were playing with Laurel's nipples. ‘I meant now, while I'm tanning her arse. Do we let her keep them on to get her used to the feel, or do I spank her on the bare right from the start?'

‘Oh, take them off, definitely,' Joe replied. ‘She hasn't earned any privileges.'

Without ceremony, Warren flipped up the hem of Laurel's skirt, turned it over on itself and tucked it into the waistband. Then, keeping hold of her wrists with one hand, he tugged her lacy white knickers down firmly with the other.

Warren raised them to his nose, and sniffed at them approvingly. ‘I'm going to keep these,' he told her, ‘and the next time I have a wank, I'm going to wrap them round my cock.'

Laurel could not stifle a moan at the thought of Warren lying on his bed, naked, running her knickers up and down the length of an erection which she had as yet not seen, only felt. She imagined his semen ultimately soaking the flimsy fabric in a tribute to her femininity, and shuddered.

Warren's palm stroked the soft curves of Laurel's bottom, his touch encouraging her to spread her legs despite herself. She knew he would be able to see her pussy in close detail, and felt a mixture of shame and wantonness as she imagined his reaction to the sight.

‘If only you knew how long I've wanted to have you like this, that gorgeous arse of yours naked and vulnerable. You've teased me for far too long, Laurel, flaunting yourself, coming on to me and never letting me touch you. Now it's time you paid for that teasing.'

The next thing she felt was a stunningly hard slap on her left cheek. She had thought he would only give her some light taps, and prove this was nothing more than play-acting, but his touch was fierce and determined. She made a vain attempt to slide off Warren's lap, appalled by the unfairness of what was happening to her.

‘No you don't, sweetheart,' Warren said. ‘You're taking your punishment like a woman.'

‘You can't do this to me,' Laurel replied, her words punctuated by slaps, each successively harder than the last. She yelped as the pain began to build deep in her buttocks, pain like nothing she had known. She was certain that if she could see the reflection of her backside in a mirror, it would be deep scarlet, the marks of Warren's hand burning into the previously pale flesh.

‘I can do what I want, and you know it,' was Warren's phlegmatic reply. ‘Admit it, Laurel, you've always known it. This is the only thing you've wanted since the moment we met.'

‘No... no,' Laurel said repeatedly, shaking her head. She was sobbing now, unable to believe that she had let Warren humiliate her in this way, and that Joe, her closest friend, had done nothing to stop him. As she glanced over at Joe, she realised he was stroking his erection through his jeans, an expression of dreamy pleasure on his face. Like Warren, he was turned on by seeing her like this, practically naked, her bottom a sore, blotchy mess where it had been punished.

She was suddenly aware that the pain she felt was no longer all-consuming. It had become the low bass note that balanced a delicate melody of pleasure, the music of her submission. Her mind struggled to encompass the knowledge that, deep down, she was no different to Cindy, or the woman who paid for the male members of her staff to chastise and humiliate them. It was a revelation that could break her utterly – or set her free.

Warren seemed to have realised that her reaction had changed, for his hand was no longer beating a relentless tattoo on her backside. Instead, it was probing between her cheeks, seeking out the liquid core of her sex.

‘Well, that tells me all I need to know.' There was a note of triumph in Warren's voice. ‘She's ready for us, Joe.'

Warren pushed her off his lap, letting her land on her hands and knees on the floor. Laurel looked up again, to see that Joe was unbuckling the belt of his jeans. Behind her, Warren was shrugging off his leather jacket. Once the two of them had stripped, they dealt with Laurel's top and skirt, leaving her as naked as they were. She stared from one man to the other, her eyes widening at the sight of Warren's thick penis rising from the dark mat of hair at his groin and Joe's longer, more slender erection bobbing as he moved towards her.

She was too dazed to resist as they manoeuvred her so that her head was at Joe's crotch and her rump sticking out, ready for Warren's attentions. She felt Warren's glans nudging at the entrance to her sex, and parted her legs more widely, suddenly eager to feel him inserted into her. With a swift movement his cock lodged itself in her juicy cunt, making her cry out with the sheer joy of that initial penetration.

Now it was Joe's turn. He presented the head of his dick to her lips, and she swallowed it gratefully, savouring the fresh male tang of his cock-flesh. The two men began to thrust into her, seeking and then finding a rhythm which suited all three. As Warren pushed into her moist channel, his groin pressing against her aching bottom, the forward movement compelled her to take more of Joe's manhood into her mouth and lave its length with her tongue.

Warren's finger settled on her clitoris, flicking over the little bud. The sensation was too much for her, and she shuddered in the throes of a climax more powerful than she could remember. Her greedy internal muscles gripped and milked Warren's shaft, triggering his own orgasm. Joe, enthralled by the sight before him, followed within seconds, spending his load of come in Laurel's eager mouth...

Laurel snapped back to the present, aware that one hand had snaked inside her top and was twisting her nipples, while the other was down the front of her knickers, two fingers buried deep in her vagina as her thumb rubbed her clit and brought her the relief she had craved.

She sat for a moment, trying to clear her head before she went to catch up with Joe. She felt infinitely better for having masturbated, but she was concerned that it was the fantasy of being dominated by Joe and, more particularly, Warren, which had caused her to reach orgasm. She could no longer deny to herself that a part of her really wanted to be treated like that, but she knew that if she got involved with either of them, it would complicate the harmonious working relationship she had worked so hard to cultivate. When everything at the agency was going so well, why should she do anything to jeopardise it? At last she felt she had exorcised the ghost of Roger Preston. Domination Inc. was a success on her terms, and she was determined that nothing should stop her from keeping it that way.

 

 

 

 

 

Roger Preston smiled and accepted a gin and tonic from the blonde, heavy-breasted air stewardess. The gin might be contained in a small plastic miniature, and the tonic in a tiny ring-pull can, but at that moment it was more welcome than a drink from any high-class cocktail bar. He would never have thought he would be happy to leave the unbroken Californian sunshine for a miserable English winter, but after six months on the West Coast, he'd had enough. It was no fun living in a part of the world that treated anyone who drank, smoked or liked the taste of red meat as a social pariah. Not for him endless alfalfa salads, herbal elixirs and therapists who wanted him to explore his chakras. Next time circumstances compelled him to lie low for a while, he would go to Amsterdam, where people knew how to have a good time.

He noticed that the stewardess had turned her attention to the girl at his side, handing her a screw-top bottle of Chardonnay. The girl at least looked as though she might make this wretched air journey a little more pleasurable. She was incredibly slender and fine-boned, with black hair that fell in a shining wave to her waist and eyes like twin chips of emerald. If it was not for the fact that she was travelling economy, rather than business class, he would have suspected that she was a supermodel en route to some photographic assignment.