Falling Hard For Naomi

Ken does what he's told. He looks utterly crushed. He also looks a touch relieved.

Naomi turns all business-like.

"So should we get started on things now?"

"Think we'd better, babe, yes."

"With Ken working for me, right?"

"Yep."

"Hey, so if he pleases me I might just allow him to perv on me again. That's only fair, Mark, don't you think?

"I suppose it is, gorgeous, yes."

"Right. And if he displeases me in any way? What then?"

"Entirely up to you, honey. You're his boss. I'm not planning to get involved."

"So I can punish him if I want to?"

"Of course you can, princess!"

**

It is almost 8:30. We must get motoring if we are to finish by noon, which is when we have to vacate the room.

Naomi and I get settled next to each other at the head of the large table. We divide things up so that I write the action plan and she does the status report. With a little guidance from me I am confident that she can handle this. Ken hovers around like a lemon, not sure where to go or what to do. He settles on taking a seat at the far end of the table and kind of fiddling aimlessly with the files.

The two of us tap away steadily on our laptops, occasionally speaking to each other, completely ignoring Ken. Naomi is enormously efficient, if anything she surpasses expectations. The speed of both her thought process and her typing is incredible. Before very long she has zapped out a first draft for me to review. It is concise and relevant and very well written.

Ken eventually finds the courage to pipe up.

"Er, Naomi, so what should I do?"

His voice is small. We can barely hear him.

Naomi looks up in distracted irritation. It's as if she'd forgotten that Ken was even in the room.

"Oh yes, Naomi's little helper. Just give me a minute," she says, her tone disinterested and extremely condescending.

I chuckle but say nothing. I have decided to leave the fate of Ken mainly in the hands of little Naomi. It will be so horny to watch her torment him!

She goes back to her keyboard and it's at least twenty minutes before she re-focuses on Ken.

"Ok. Come here," she drawls, imperiously, crooking her finger.

Ken gets up and trots over.

Naomi resumes work on her document, keeps Ken standing there next to her for another long twenty minutes. To his credit he has remembered Naomi's rules. He is gazing downwards and the object of his attention is his shoes rather than her legs or her cleavage. Not easy for the poor guy, obviously, but he is managing it.

"What do you want, Kenny?" Naomi inquires, when at last she deigns to notice him.

He makes eye contact and repeats his request for instructions.

Naomi's mood improves sharply and she smiles. "Ah yes, of course. Sorry, sweetie. Ok, right, here is what I would like you to do."

Ken concentrates hard as Naomi gives him his marching orders. Speaking in the patronizing way that one would talk to a toddler, she says that she needs something from one of the files that he has been occupied with down the other end of the table. It's just one piece of paper, a memo, and she describes which one it is. She is not sure which of the half dozen bulky files it is in, he will need to root around and find it. Ok?

Ken says yes of course, Naomi, and he goes off to get started.

Naomi calls him back. Not so fast, she says. She has not quite finished. She is less than impressed by how long it has taken him to ask what she wants him to do. A punishment is therefore in order. Ken will not walk back to his place, he will crawl on all fours. And when he has found the memo in question, he will put it in his mouth and make the return journey back to Naomi in similar vein. "We will pretend you are a dog bringing something to its owner," she says, succumbing to the giggles.

I'm cracking up too, hearing this and seeing how the abject Ken duly gets down on his hands and knees and beetles off across the floor. Unbelievable.

"Woof woof," I go, which makes Naomi laugh.

"You little monster," I tell her.

"I know," she splutters. "Poor guy. Oh my god, he is such a moron!"

For a variety of reasons it takes Ken an awful long time to locate the memo.

First he annoys her by asking if he can go to the bathroom. He needs a pee, he says. Naomi considers it briefly but declines to accede to the request. Work must take priority, she stresses. He must hang on until he has found what Naomi needs. Then perhaps he can go and relieve himself.

"But I think I will go to the bathroom now," Naomi announces. "If that is ok with everyone."

Which of course it is.

So off she goes.

On her way out of the room, Naomi treats us to something of a catwalk. Shoulders back, tits forward, bum swaying, hips swinging, the girl is erotic poetry in motion. The certain knowledge that two pairs of lustful male eyes are glued to her every movement clearly adds a little something to the performance.

"She is fucking sex on legs, Kenny, don't you think?" I say, as Naomi exits and closes the door behind her.

Ken says nothing but the look on his face supplies all the answer I need.

"Yeah, I know," I chuckle.

When Naomi returns she announces that she is going take her doggy for a walk. She tells Ken to stop what he is doing and to take his tie off and give it to her. She orders him to assume the all fours position. Naomi secures the tie in a noose around his neck and tests the tension. She yanks at it a couple of times and it seems to work just fine. "Right, here we go, Naomi takes her dog walkies!" she titters, and then she sashays off across the floor, pulling him along behind her.

"Should he not be naked, baby?" I call out.

"You reckon?"

"Well dogs normally are, Naomi, aren't they?"

She thinks about it, then agrees with me. She commands Ken to stand up and to remove his clothes. "And I do mean all of them." Ken is clearly distraught but he obeys. He strips and places his clothes on a chair.

There are no surprizes. Ken has a deeply mediocre, unprepossessing body. Doesn't help that he's so overweight. "Oh yuck," I go.

"Every girl's dream!" is Naomi's less than sincere verdict.

She gazes in studied bemusement at his tiny limp dick.

"Oh my goodness, Mark, how on earth has that happened? How can it look even more ridiculous than the last time we saw it."

"Beats me, sugar."

"Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, walkies."

She orders the now naked Ken back onto all fours and proceeds to parade him around the room with me cackling in raucous approval. She does several circuits, alternating between slow and fast. Every so often she jerks abruptly at the tie/lead and Ken's head gets a nasty dose of whiplash. It really is a spectacle.

When she's finished she decides that Ken should remain in the nude for now. So he resumes his search through the files in that state.

My turn now. And I do genuinely need a pee.

On my way out to the bathroom I rap my knuckles on the top of Ken's head, making him cry out loud.

"Ouch!" Naomi titters.

When I come back I stomp heavily up behind him and he cringes in his chair, thinking he's in for the same treatment. This time I don't do it. I start flicking at his ears with my fingers instead.

I speak to Naomi as I'm lazily tormenting him.

"Has he not dug out what you wanted yet, pretty girl?"

The pretty girl shakes her pretty head. "Nope."

"Lazy fucking slacker!"

Naomi shrugs. "No sweat. I'm gonna need it quite soon though."

It's enormously impressive how calm and sanguine the girl is, especially given the time pressure, however I am feeling a bit boisterous. I need to let off some steam.

"Want me to slap him or something? You know, given I'm over here?"

"Do you want to slap him?"

"Yeah, beautiful, I guess I do."

Naomi ponders this for what seems like an eternity. "Ok, honey, go on then. I suppose he deserves it."

I deal Ken a few satisfying slaps around the chops, enough to make his cheeks glow and get the tears flowing, as Naomi laughs and looks on from the other end of the table. He bobs and weaves, trying to avoid the blows, and this causes his glasses to fly off his face and onto the carpet. "Oh dear," says Naomi.

"Go get your specs, Kenny boy," I snarl, increasingly intoxicated by the absolute power I have over this little saddo.

He slides off his chair and gets down on the floor to retrieve them. I was thinking of leaving it at that but the sight of his fat naked ass presented right slap bang there in front of me is simply too tempting and I give it a kick. Ken squeals when my heavy shoe finds its target, which is right in the bum-crack. That felt good! Naomi is laughing like a fucking hyena, I notice, evil bitch, and so I decide to up the entertainment value for her by kicking the poor bastard in the nuts. This gets Ken howling and motivates the clearly excited Naomi to jump from her seat and come take a close look at the damage. It is quite extensive. Ken is balled-up and blubbering on the floor.

"More, princess?"

My blood is up. I'm really hoping for a yes.

"No, baby, we do not want to be calling an ambulance."

Ah well. But the girl is right. The assault is on the verge of going over the top.

"Because that would get us into trouble, Mark, wouldn't it?"

Right again, obviously. Thank god for little Naomi.

Besides, she says, she has not finished with Ken yet. She really does need this memo that he is meant to be looking for.

"Ok, princess."

"Are you alright, sweetie?" Naomi coos, standing over the prostrate Ken, gazing intently at him.

Ken looks up and attempts a weak smile cum grimace.

"You poor thing!"

She really sounds concerned, Naomi does, but the look in her eye tells a slightly different story. She starts to giggle.

"Hey, were you looking up my dress just then?"

Ken shakes his head vigorously.

"You sure, sweetie?"

"No, Naomi."

I'm impressed that Ken has found his voice, even if it is more of a croak.

"Is that no you're not sure, or no you were not looking up my dress?"

"I wasn't looking up your dress. Honestly, Naomi, I wasn't."

"Ok, I believe you. Thousands wouldn't."

Ken looks almost happy. Certainly this affectionate attention from his tormentress is perking him up.

"Not that I'd mind," Naomi says.

She's grinning at him now. I'm grinning too. I'm glad she's taken charge of the situation again.

"Lie flat on your back, Ken," she suddenly decrees, having clearly just thought of something.

Naomi plops herself down onto Ken, straddling his chest.

The bitch has never looked hotter than she does right now. Squatting on a naked dominated man, dress hiked to the top of her thighs, tits almost tumbling out, it's a look that really suits her.

I tell her this and she appreciates it. She pouts at me and luxuriates in my horny gaze.

Then she re-focuses.

"Mark, can you fetch my handbag please?"

I go and get it.

Naomi takes the bag and places it on the floor next to her.

She gazes silently down at Ken for a long time. Then she begins to terrorize him softly and intently.

"Don't say a word, sweetie, just listen. I am going to make you suffer now. I am going to torture you despicably and for quite a long time. And it's not even because you have done anything wrong. I just feel like doing it. For example, I have a pair of tweezers in my bag. Can you imagine what I might do with them?"

Ken is suitably frightened. His frantic eyes are beseeching Naomi for mercy.

Me, I send her the very opposite message.

"Nice one, babe! Really hurt him!"

Naomi giggles at me, then returns to tyrannizing Ken.

"See? You are the only person here who won't be enjoying this. So, yeah, I have some tweezers and, hmm let's think, what other useful things do I have? Ok, yes, I have nail clippers. They should come in handy. And I have some really nice perfume. Keep away from the eyes, it says on the bottle, if I remember correctly. Big warning letters. Silly really. As if people needed to be told that."

Ken is shaking his head wildly from side to side.

"No point doing that, sweetie. Best to save your energy. We don't want you screaming either, when I start, so we need to gag you now. Mark, honey, you can do it. Use his socks."

"Sure thing, pretty girl!"

I ball up Ken's socks and stuff them into his mouth. At Naomi's behest, I push them right in until he is almost choking. He can't make a sound now, other than a muted "ug" noise. She seems satisfied. "Ok that is perfect. Thanks, sugar."

She shuffles from his chest to his stomach, bounces heavily up and down a few times, making poor Ken gasp, then she settles down and makes herself comfortable. "All set!" she announces, smiling down at her helpless victim. "Can't breathe that well through your mouth now, sweetie, can you?"

Of course he can't.

"Thank goodness you have a nose!"

Naomi begins to walk her fingers up Ken's chest. She does it very very slowly to ensure that he has plenty of time to deduce and then dwell on what she has in store for him. Ken is not, as we know, the sharpest tool in the box but he is quick enough to work this one out. His head is threshing about on the floor and there is a cacophony of "ug ug ugs".

"Mark, can you get down there and hold him still please."

"My pleasure, beautiful."

I place Ken's head in a strong and secure arm-lock so that he can't move it more than a centimetre. Naomi voices her approval. "Thank you, baby."

Her fingers have reached Ken's chin. She pauses there and tickles it as she resumes talking to him. Her voice is very gentle.

"This is fun, Kenny, isn't it?"

"Ug."

"What, you don't like being tormented by a pretty girl?"

"Ug ug."

"Well that is such a pity. Because the pretty girl simply loves tormenting you. Speaking of which, should we play a naughty little game with that nose of yours now?"

"Ug ug ug!"

Giggling diabolically, she moves her fingers to the target and presses down firmly on a nostril, so that he can breathe only through the other one. She maintains this for ten seconds, then releases it and does the same with the other nostril. Ken can breathe ok, he can get enough air to ward off disaster, but judging by the look of him it is quite a precarious and unpleasant experience.

"Now let's see what happens when we do both."

It is perfectly obvious what will happen. When she grasps his nose with her thumb and forefinger and squeezes it shut, Ken can barely breathe at all and therefore begins to almost suffocate. After thirty seconds he is definitely struggling, and after sixty his face is going a funny colour, eyes bulging from their sockets.

Naomi lets go. She doesn't wish to cause serious injury. Plus she wants her victim fully conscious. She wants to maximize her (and my) enjoyment by repeating the unspeakable process many times.

By the time she gets bored of it, Ken is in a pitiful state but there is no lasting harm done. No physical harm at least. Since I guess this can't be doing wonders for his mental health.

Naomi reaches for her handbag and rustles around in it. "Time to really play!" she giggles.

Oh yeah. This should be fucking cosmic!

"Want me to keep holding his head, baby?"

"If you would."

I settle into position and prepare to watch and enjoy. I stare steadily and implacably down into Ken's face, relishing the utter dread in his eyes. He is probably wondering the same thing as I am. What will come out of Naomi's little bag of tricks first. The tweezers? The clippers? The perfume? Something else perhaps?

'Something else' turns out to be the correct answer.

Naomi unexpectedly announces that she has changed her mind about the other stuff. She no longer wants to do any of that. Can't actually be bothered, she explains.

I'm a little disappointed but I don't say anything. This is her show.

What Naomi retrieves from her bag is her lipstick and what she does with it is very droll.

She scrawls a few words across Ken's chest.

"PROPERTY OF NAOMI FERNANDEZ. PLEASE RETURN TO OWNER IF FOUND."

She titters contentedly when she's finished.

"There!"

I crack up when I read it. I tell her that I love her sense of humour. She is amazing.

"Well it is the truth, isn't it?" she goes.

"Fucking well is," I go.

"Ug ug," goes Ken.

Naomi giggles again and then turns deadly serious. That is quite enough of this messing around, she says, let's all get back to work. She tells Ken to transfer those socks out of his mouth and onto his feet. Then he should take the time he needs to recover, put the rest of his clothes back on, and get cracking with finding the memo that she needs. Because she does fucking well need it.

Naomi gets up off Ken. She returns to our end of the table and I follow.

**

Ken rests up for five minutes and then, demonstrating yet again the slavish obedience for which he is renowned, he does indeed get himself dressed and his nose back to the grindstone, searching for Naomi's memo.

When he finds it, despite the time elapsed and the appalling punishment he has taken in the interim, this truly remarkable man remembers his instructions to the letter. He traps it in his teeth, gets on all fours, and scampers doggy style over to present it to Naomi. To his owner.

She takes it from his mouth and checks that it is the correct one. It sure is. Naomi smiles and pronounces that she is pleased. Ken has been very good and merits a reward. She offers him a choice. Option A is to finally go to the bathroom and take that leak, which by now he must be bursting for. Option B is to stay where he is and worship her legs for a while. "Because your position down there is quite suitable for doing that, isn't it?" she points out, giggling.

Kenny plumps for B. It's no contest.

Naomi says for him to crawl in as near to her as possible but to make fucking sure that there is no contact. Ken can look at her legs to his heart's content, but must on no account touch them. If Naomi detects even the slightest contact she will get me to beat the crap out of him again, only this time it will be a lot worse. This time it will be hospital and damn the consequences. Oh and Ken can take a good look at her feet too, if he likes. She will slip her shoes off right now, so as to facilitate that.

"You may thank me."

"Thank you, Naomi."

"Good boy."

So Naomi resumes work, polishing her status report, while Ken grovels under the table and stares at her legs and her feet. Me, I carry on with my bit, the action plan, which I have nearly finished.

Half an hour later I have, in fact, finished and so has Naomi. The job is completed with time to spare. What a team. Excellent.

I place a hand on Naomi's thigh and caress it. This would be nice in any circumstances, obviously, but the fact that I am casually fondling what poor Ken Drone is at the same time being so blatantly tantalized by makes it all the more so.

Naomi reads my dirty mind and plays along. "Mmm, that is lovely, Mark," she goes. "Please don't stop, sugar, I really like it. Kenny must be getting a great view too. Bet the poor man is so wishing he was you right now, honey, don't you reckon?"

"I bet he fucking is," I grin.

I decide it would be good if Ken realizes that I will be fucking Naomi today. I figure it will make him feel even more shit than he already does, assuming such a thing is possible. I want to openly luxuriate in the difference between his situation and mine. I want to gloat and rub his nose in it.

"Can't wait for later, baby," I say.

Naomi giggles and says neither can she. I suggest that we send Ken out to buy some condoms. She thinks that is a swell idea. "Did you hear that, Kenny?" she coos. A muffled "yes" from under the table.

"Ok. So kiss my feet now, I grant you special permission for that, and then come out from under there."

Ken complies with both of those commands and stands before Naomi. Salivating at her superb legs and smooching her cute painted little tutsies has had its inevitable effect. The poor guy is on heat again. So funny!