Read Poor Little Rich Slut Online
Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
Poor Little Rich Slut (10 page)
The tug was much too sharp, and was followed by a sharp intake of breath.
“Hold it!” Garrison ordered.
I held the pen.
“Pull out a little more.”
I did and my entire body was infused with a beautiful, delicious, erotic fire, so filled with want and desire that I became angry when he finally told me to stop.
“You can’t do this to me!”
“Horny, huh?”
“Yes, you know I am.”
“You’ve made me pretty damn hot. In fact, you can imagine me jerking off because that’s exactly what I’m doing.” I could feel his smirking smile all the way to my bones. “Remember, no playing.”
I wanted to slam the phone down but I judiciously refrained.
“You be sure to look in the mirror tonight when you get home. Make sure there’s no red hot swelling, any sign of infection. Soak in a salt bath and use the disinfectant.”
“Yes, of course, I’ll do that.”
“Good.” I could tell he was in a hurry.
A hurry
to cum I suppose. “I’ll call soon,” he said and he hung up before I could say goodbye.
Every Friday for six weeks the story was the same. A call from Garrison in the late afternoon set the tone for a weekend of nonsexual activity ruled by an increasingly angry and thwarted sex drive.
On the fourth week, there were five people in my office when I took his call. I’d totally forgotten about our ‘phone date’ until I picked up the receiver and answered.
“Well, hi there,” I said in a sunny voice, while trying to disguise my increased agitation.
“And hi to you, my
slutty
heiress.”
He said it so derisively that I couldn’t help but squirm in my chair from the ensuing arousal. Of course, squirming drew attention to my sore genitals and I had to hold back my wince. Everyone was looking at me waiting for me to hang up the phone—this was a very important meeting.
“You know this is not a great time, Garrison. I’m in a meeting with the layout and production heads.” At least they knew it was Garrison on the line.
“Really?
Hum. This could get really embarrassing for you, huh.”
Damn his demented mind!
“But I’m sure it won’t,” I assured him.
“No? I think by now you would have figured out that I’ll be calling on Friday about this time.”
“You know I didn’t remember that.” I stared at my staff, giving them a look that showed my impatience.
“How about I let you off the hook?”
“That would be nice.”
“But there’s a price.”
“Oh?”
“After they leave, go to my office and get my camera out of the bottom drawer of my desk. It’s locked but you can find the key in a small compartment in the Oriental box that’s on the third shelf of the étagère. Get up on my desk, sitting, legs splayed and take a picture for me…I want to see the rings close up. You can email the picture to my private account.”
I could have come up with a dozen snappy retorts in reply to that mouthful of instructions, but I was too aghast to even think. With five people still waiting for me to end the conversation and get on with the meeting, all I could do was acquiesce. “I’ll be sure it’s done.”
“Are they curious?”
“I don’t know, but by now, I imagine so.”
His laugh was deep and wicked. I could feel him hovering over the room like a demon to torment me. I made every effort not to blush as he hung up. But my cheeks already felt warm and I could only hope that the five curious associates didn’t notice me blush.
The next day Garrison had the picture of my pierced, naked cunt in his email.
Friday of the sixth week, the call came in as previous, although this time Garrison called from the airport. Business in
Japan
concluded early and he wanted me to wait at the office for him to arrive.
“Use my office, lock the door if you like, and strip down. I want you bent over, penitent and ready for me when I get there. You’ll find a pair of handcuffs and a leather paddle in the second drawer of my desk. You can put the cuffs on yourself, behind your back.”
“Put them on when?” I asked appalled.
I could sense him looking at his watch. “What? It’s
The office should be almost cleared out by now. Soon as we hang up you can get started.”
“And if someone should find me there before you arrive?” I asked, anxiously.
“Lock the door.”
“What about the cleaning lady?”
“You take your chances there, but she normally doesn’t come in until after eight.”
I could feel the panic rising in my gut. “And what if you get caught in traffic? What if you’re in an accident and don’t show? What if I’m stuck here not knowing?” I rattled on. I desperately didn’t want to do this.
“Then you’ll manage. But none of that’s going to happen, Heiress. Have faith. And you’d better be ready for me by
I’m making pretty good time.”
“What? You’re already on the way!”
“You have no idea how close I am.” I could hear the veiled threat beneath his chuckling comment. I shuddered with an exhilarating combination of excitement and fear. “If you’re not ready for me, slut, I might just march you right in front of a few of those co-workers you so hate and see what they think of your burning behind.”
Ah!
A burning behind.
I couldn’t wait to feel the heat of his hand on my bottom. My pussy couldn’t wait for sex. But I wasn’t about to give him an excuse to live up to that last threat. I didn’t think he’d dare. But with Garrison, I couldn’t be sure.
The next hour was the worst of my life. Though most of the offices on our floor had been vacated for the weekend, there were two marketing execs still busy on the phone when I slipped into Garrison’s office and locked the door behind me. I sighed, trying to settle myself, but by then, just fifteen minutes after his call, my desire was roaring hot, overwhelming my body and my sanity.
I hadn’t any time to get used to the idea. But then maybe if I’d had more time, I would have chickened out.
Checking the clock, it was
Any minute… I worried. Any minute he’d show. I stripped off my red suit and pink
shirt,
although I left my black garter belt and stockings on, hoping Garrison would appreciate the sexy look. I discarded my panties along with the rest of my clothes,
then
went for the Chinese box on the étagère to find the key to his desk.
Just as promised there were handcuffs and a leather paddle in his second desk drawer. There was also rope, clothespins, a Ping-Pong paddle and a coiled, braided whip. I nearly shrieked when I touched that item; for a moment the tight braid looked like real snakeskin. After retrieving the items he wanted, I slammed the drawer closed, afraid to look any further.
The hands on the old-fashioned clock face moved smoothly toward the top of the hour. 6:00. Did I dare wait any longer to put the handcuffs on? I listened at the door for a few more minutes, dreading the idea of sealing my fate once the metal cuffs locked in place.
Everything was quiet beyond the door, though oddly enough, I was tempted to peek outside just to see if those occupied offices were now empty. But then, I heard footsteps in the corridor, so I grabbed the cuffs, locked one around my left wrist, then putting my hand behind me, fiddled with the second cuff until it securely imprisoned my right hand.
An instant of panic rolled through my body. I was about to cry.
What if that wasn’t him? What if he doesn’t show?
Of course he’ll show, you ninny!
My sane mind argued back.
The telephone rang. Not the business line, but the personal one that came right into his office. Did I dare answer?
When the ringing stopped, I took a deep breath.
Any minute.
Any minute, I repeated as if that mantra would quiet my frayed nerves.
The phone rang again and I still hadn’t the guts to answer.
It was almost
I waited in the quiet of the office for another ten minutes. I should have been poised as ordered over the front of his desk, but I could hardly hold the position for more than a minute before I struggled out of it and waited, ears open by the desk for the sound of Garrison’s key in the lock.
It was
“No, he’s not. He’s been delayed.” His voice came back at me.
“Delayed? No!” I cried.
“I won’t be long… been trying to call, trying to see if you’d have the nerve to answer.”
“Well, I have.”
“So, you’re naked.”
“Yes, I am.”
“In handcuffs?”
“Yes, in handcuffs.”
“Ready for me, bending over the desk?”
“I will be once you’re off the phone.”
“Just didn’t want you to worry,” he said, and his cell phone clicked off.
Although I still had no more idea about when he’d arrive than before he called, I quickly made my way back to the front of the desk and decided that at the first sound of footsteps I’d bend over as ordered.
I focused so much thought energy into the hallway beyond Garrison’s door that I failed to pick up on any other audible cues. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Garrison appeared.
“What the fuck!” Clichéd as it seems, I almost fainted at the sight of him. The adrenalin must have pumped me up so high that I thought I’d seen a ghost. I sank onto the desk, completely forgetting his instructions about presenting my ass for his inspection. “You’ve been here all along?” was the only thing I could guess.
“No. But there’s another door in the bathroom, opens into the hallway by the freight elevator.”
“You scared me to death!”
“Maybe if you’d been draped over the desk like I wanted you, you’d have been less freaked out.”
“Sorry,” was all I could manage.
“Well, you can bend over now,” he tersely ordered.
I’m not sure the angry grimace on his face was real, but it certainly had me worried now that the shock was over.
It was
Bent over Garrison’s desk, I got spanked and spanked hard for most of the next hour. Of course, he took a break now and then to remove his coat and put away a briefcase full of papers—all while I remained poised and ready for more. He came back for more again and again. Again and again the leather paddle peppered its way over my bare skin. From top to bottom, side to side; I’d never had such a thorough spanking.
It stung; it hurt like hell, but those brief pauses between rounds of fierce and steady smack after biting smack only made me ready for the next, as the warm burning feeling on my bottom turned me on fire. After every series of swats, he massaged my ass and laid on a few smacks of his hand. I began to ooze with arousal then.
Although Garrison wasn’t much interested in my arousal.
“
Ooo
, sorry,” I heard the cleaning lady say when she spotted me. Thankfully, my head was turned, the lights in the office were dim and she probably didn’t see who was naked, handcuffed and being punished.
“We’ll be through shortly,” he told her and she backed out with her cleaning cart clattering against the doorjamb.
“You get her good if she’s been bad, Mr. Tate. Some women need that.”
“They certainly do.”
Oh! The shame of it! What if she saw… how
could I
ever…
It wasn’t but a few seconds later that another knock on the door brought another visitor to our scene. My head was still turned away from the door and I closed my eyes. I didn’t dare look to see who it was.
“Glad you’re still here to see this,” Garrison said, to the unknown someone in the room.
The man cleared his throat—the only indication that it was a man at all.
“You needn’t
worry,
my friend here will keep your secret, Eleanor.”
He was giving away my name!
“In fact, my friend is going to have a go at your ass, then take a look at your
piercings
. He’s never seen genital rings quite like yours.” A moment later a blindfold slipped over my eyes. Even if I’d wanted to see the man, I wasn’t allowed that liberty.
