Darkest Fantasies (5 page)

Melissa's slow
smile suggested triumph, sending a small signal of warning to
Kevin's brain. But he ignored it because she pushed his legs apart,
knelt between them, and began to caress small circles on his shirt
with a single, red-painted nail.

'You want me,
I know you do,' she purred seductively. 'You've been watching
me.'

His skin
quivered beneath her touch, the finger slipping through the opening
of his shirt and slipping into the hollow of his belly button. He
jolted at the touch, gasping at the flood of sexual awareness
generated by that simple movement. Again he saw that lurking hint
of triumph, and had the unnerving suspicion that she was mocking
him.

With a grimace
of lust he reached out and grabbed her hair, intending to lift her
up to him, but her hand instantly turned into a vice around a good
handful of tight flesh at his middle. He almost shouted as her
nails seemed to dig right into his abdomen, and he freed her hair
instantly.

'Don't touch
me, Kevin,' she warned. 'You wait to be asked. Understand?'

'Jesus! What
the fuck—?'

'Good
question,' she cut him off. 'The fuck is what I want it to be. How
I want it to be, and when I want it to be. If you don't want that
you say so right now and I'll unlock the door and walk right back
out of here.'

He was frozen
in place, knowing he could knock her right across the room if he
wanted, but something stopped him. This was it. There wouldn't be
another chance, he sensed that, and his ego would not deny him the
opportunity that had just arisen. But a warning sounded in his
mind. Was she a conquest or a bloody dominant cow? He wasn't quite
sure, but a little devil whispered encouragingly, 'Go with the
flow, Kevin, and when the time comes show her who's boss.' It was
that simple.

They were
staring at each other like two dogs about to scrap, then Melissa
smiled. It was the smile that had attracted him in the first place;
she really was very lovely, with a shiny crop of short chestnut
hair, bow lips and neat white teeth. He had noticed that while she
didn't have very much in the breast department, she did seem to be
very fit and supple, which engendered further interesting
speculation in his fertile imagination. To stroke his ego and take
his mind off the way her nails were digging into him, he imagined
her at his mercy, tied in an elaborate and intricate web of knots
which left her various body parts available to him. The mental
image appealed.

Sensing a
fractional easing of his tension, Melissa relaxed her grip. 'Good
boy,' she said. 'Now, stand up and take off your shirt. I want to
see the goods before I buy.'

Kevin was
taken aback. 'But we're in my office, I can't—'

'Afraid?' she
taunted. 'Most of them have gone home.'

'The
cleaners?'

'What
cleaners, I've never noticed any around,' she said scathingly.
'Now, stand up and take off your shirt. I don't intent to tell you
again.'

There was a
snap to her voice which had him out of the chair like a shot. To
his bewilderment, Kevin found himself removing his shirt as he had
been told. There was a sort of risqué element about doing it in the
office, and even while he was undoing his tie and slipping the
buttons, his prick, which had wilted during the confrontation,
hardened again dramatically. He decided that he hadn't jumped to
the sound of her voice, but that he had decided to go along for the
ride; see how bold she really was when push came to shove. Melissa
perched on the edge of his desk, her legs invitingly wide. He could
see the briefest hint of lace and his breath quickened.

'Now the
rest.'

'Oh no, you
can't be serious...'

But she gave
him a look that made his hands slip down to the waistband of his
trousers. Even while he was fumbling with the zip, slipping the
fabric down, freeing his erection from the confines of his pouch,
she was watching him avidly. As he bent down to remove his shoes
and socks he sensed her eyes on him almost like a physical touch,
making his hair follicles rise and quiver with the thrill of
anticipation, or nervousness, or embarrassment in case someone
should come in. He wasn't quite sure what it was.

'You want me
to show you what I can do so you can give me a star,' she accused.
'Now, legs spread, arms up.'

Her voice was
lower, huskier than it had been previously, and he knew from the
tenseness of her own body that she found him alluring. His ego rose
a notch towards its normal level. He was attractive and he knew it;
a fine specimen, hard in all the right places, without the least
hint of middle-age spread. But standing in his office with his legs
wide and his arms above his head, he felt a slight chill and
shivered. God help him if any of the directors were still around.
Even with the door locked he felt vulnerable.

Melissa stood
up and inspected him closely, her fingers sliding down his flat
abdomen almost to the bush of pubic hair. His cock twitched in
anticipation, but she didn't touch. Instead she moved on around his
body. His eyes followed.

'Keep your
head still,' she commanded.

His face
flicked forward and he stared ahead, sensing her behind him with
far more excitement now that he could not see what she was doing.
He felt the hint of her breath on his back, the lightest touch of
her hand upon his tight buttock, and felt his erection jolt with
anticipation. Touch me, he was thinking. Touch me, there... But she
didn't. She carried her inspection full circle until once again she
was leaning her neat bottom on the desk, staring at him
speculatively.

'What?' he
asked, somewhat irritably, maintaining his ridiculous posture for
some reason he could not fathom. If the cow was being a fucking
prick-tease, he'd show her a thing or two. After all, he was one
hell of a lot stronger than she was, in spite of her attitude.

'I'm just
thinking what I'd like to do with you, considering the
possibilities, wondering how far you'll go,' she replied softly,
calling his bluff.

'How far I'll
go?' He gave her his lip-curling, snake-charming assessment. 'I
think it's probably the other way around.'

Her eyes met
Kevin's, and held them. As she brought out from behind her back a
roll of brown packaging tape she knocked the complacency instantly
from his face. For a moment he was almost panicked. One part of him
thought he ought to handle the suggestion with the contempt it
deserved; laugh, turn away arrogantly, deny he would be party to
anything like that. But another part of him, for some stupid
reason, shuddered with delicious anticipation at the sight. Why
not? the little devil goaded. After all, he was stronger than her
and could stop the game at any moment, couldn't he? And he was so
very, very aroused. He hadn't felt so excited in years.

'Turn around
and give me your wrists, if you dare,' she said softly.

His better
judgement said 'no way, lady', but he was too arrogant to give way
after her challenge, and with a certain amount of bravado did as
she asked. He held his wrists crossed behind him as he turned, and
presented them to her, slightly pushed away from his body. He felt
the first pull of the tape stick to the hairs on his arms, then the
bite as she wound it around again and again, pulling it tight,
sometimes changing direction and winding it vertically between his
crossed hands and arms until his wrists were encased in a thick
wadge of tape. He pulled experimentally, and once again a thrill of
excitement shivered up through his body as he discovered the tape
to be absolutely immovable. His wrists might have been set in
concrete.

She turned him
around to face her and reached a cool hand to cradle his balls,
which instantly tightened even further in anticipation. 'Now this
is mine,' she purred. 'You can't touch yourself or pleasure
yourself. I'm the only one who can do that, so you must be nice to
me. Do everything I ask you to do, because without my help this
will be the most frustrating encounter you will ever
experience.'

The soft tones
of her voice washed over him and he drowned in them. But he knew
she was wrong. He was already getting pleasure out of the
encounter, thank you very much, and surely that must have been
obvious to her. Melissa pulled a visitor's chair from beneath his
conference table and pushed it towards him. It comprised a simple
chrome frame with a fabric seat, a fabric back, and no arms.

'Sit,' she
ordered. 'Arms over the back.'

This, Kevin
was happy to do. From this position she could clamber onto his lap,
or kneel before him and take it in her mouth. Intrigued to know
which she would choose, he sat straight, his legs spread, his
ankles wide.

Obviously
enjoying herself now, she once again took up the roll of tape and
grasped one ankle. To his shock she pulled his leg outside the
frame and began to bind his ankle to the back leg of the chair. He
resisted faintly for a brief instant, then, almost as if she had
him hypnotised, he relaxed without her needing to say a single
word. His other leg followed suit on the other side, forcing him to
arch upward and back into a stretched, almost kneeling posture with
his thighs uncomfortably parted over the seat. But it was not all
bad, for his prick jutted firmly from his groin, and the added
stretch made him feel vulnerable and exposed in the whole of his
nether region, and the only way she could service him now was with
her mouth. He liked that thought.

He was still
wallowing in anticipation as Melissa grabbed the chair and shuffled
it back a little until Kevin's head and arms pressed against the
wall, presumably to stop the unstable ensemble from toppling over
backwards. Still fully clothed, she stood back and viewed her
captive with some satisfaction. 'There, doesn't that feel nice?'
she said, once again reaching to toy with his prick. When he didn't
instantly answer, her head dipped to his tool and her teeth nipped
at the loose flesh of his foreskin. He jerked at the unexpected
pain and the erotic sensation of pleasure it sent through him. No
one had ever done such a thing to him before, either. He was
drowning in exciting new sensations, and it was utterly, utterly
wonderful.

'Say, "yes
Melissa", when I ask if it's nice. And when I've finished say,
"thank you, Melissa".'

'Yes Melissa,'
he whispered in absolute anticipation, his eyes never leaving
hers.

She smiled in
a way he didn't like too much as she opened a drawer in his desk
and removed a pair of scissors. She then snipped through the single
layer of fabric beneath him, and let the two severed edges
hang.

He yanked
against the bonds in consternation. 'What on earth are you doing?
Do you realise how much these chairs cost?'

'It was in the
way,' she said huskily, and knelt between his legs. One hand
reached up and began to caress the small area of flesh between his
anus and his balls, the other began to gently slide up and down the
length of his pulsing penis. 'Is this what you want?' she cooed as
he closed his eyes and sighed. 'Is this nice, Kevin?'

He gasped and
forgot about the way the chrome frame was digging into his inner
thighs and about how he was going to explain away the damaged seat.
All he knew was that he was stretched wide and vulnerable for her
skilled hands to pleasure him, and it was wonderful. She reached
into his groin and separated one ball from the tightness there, and
began to roll it between her fingers. It was almost painful, but
exquisite.

'Oh, yes,' he
gasped. 'Oh, bloody hell.' Sweat beaded his torso. It was not in
his nature to lie back and take this. His hands worked convulsively
behind his back, and had they not been restrained they would have
reached for her, touched her, exposed her breasts. He wanted to be
in control, yet being out of control was the most amazing thing he
had ever experienced. He was shocked at the level of arousal it
engendered in him. An arousal more painful, more vibrant than
anything he had experienced in a long time.

Then his world
fell apart as something tightened around his balls, bringing his
wandering mind back to the present with a start. He was about to
remonstrate, to say that enough was enough, when she stood up,
firmly holding two ends of string which had been passed beneath the
frame. These she wrapped efficiently around his torso, holding him
loosely to the back of the chair, and tied off on his chest. He
stared down at the knot in confusion. 'What on earth are you
doing?' he asked.

She grinned,
bending down to his executive case to take out some keys. 'I'm
going to have a little look at your records, my hero.'

He struggled
in anger for just a second, freezing almost instantly, for the
slightest movement pulled his balls in a most uncomfortable manner.
'You can't do that,' he blurted. 'Those records are private, they
belong to the company.'

'And who's
going to stop me... you?' she smirked. 'I know they're private,
that's why I'm looking at them and why I tied you up.'

His lust
chilled with realisation. She was not there for him - she was using
him. If looks could kill, she would have been flayed alive. 'You
won't get away with this,' he threatened impotently.

'You could
call for help. There must be someone in the building.' She unlocked
his filing cabinets and began to browse. She was very efficient,
obviously knowing exactly what she wanted and where to find it.
Then, when she had a small pile of papers, she went over and
unlocked the door. 'I'm just going to the photocopier. Don't go
away.'

Kevin had
never felt so stupid or exposed, and his penis withered as he
stared at the unlocked door. He shuffled hopefully, wondering if
his flaccid state would allow him to slip free of the string, but
it was not to be. Horror seeped through his brain as he waited. If
anyone found him like this he was finished. He'd never be such an
unfaithful prat again. Oh, God, he heard heels clacking along the
corridor. This was it - the end of the line.