Secretary - Day after Day

The whole time, out of shame, she kept her head and eyes down. Accepting, trying to understand his perspective, that she acted irresponsibly and out of turn.

He informed her she was chained to the bucket as it was her only restroom. He would provide her a lid, not to sit on, but would hide the stench it would soon emit. He was going to give her the rest of the day in the room with the stocks. She would be there, alone, thinking. He explained if she didn't like what was going on, she would not have come back.

They made their way up to the room, she had the open bucket in both arms, snug to her breast, under her nose. Once she was in, he closed the door and she heard a the lock click. Immediately she set the bucket down and walked away, getting it far, far away. She found a lid that seemed to fit and put it over the bucket. Next, she sat against the wall. Again, confused, thinking, thinking. She couldn't help look at the implements on the wall again. Imagining their uses and effect on her skin.

She went numb. She went into bliss. The inner turmoil, confusion, angst, panic at her apartment not an hour ago was completely gone. She was not panicked. She was excited. She was smiling. At first she felt it from her heart, warming to the surface of her skin, and then an all over tingle, the realization that this was where she needed to be. She was naked, alone, a piss pot chained to her ankle and found nothing wrong with it. There were implements to cause her pain staring her in the face and she was aflutter to find out their nuances on her porcelain skin, their sound in the air, the shapes of the marks they will make.

He came in every hour, found her in a different position but always on the floor, no where else to be. Every time he would pick an implement, demand a position, and use it once. He would then wait, see the red mark form, make a mental note, touch the area, determining the intensity and then leave. This went on until he brought in her bowls of food, clearly marked on the side saying "secretary".

As she slowly ate, ass in the air, he quietly spoke to her. Explaining that she would be needed at work tomorrow. She would not be chained to the bucket at work, but would need to ask permission to use his private restroom. She was going to sleep in that room, chained to her toilet. He would wake her when it was necessary so she wouldn't be late for her 30 min treadmill workout. He encouraged her to select some implements from the room and try them out on herself. See if any had a bad or good effect.

With that advice, he took her half eaten bowls of food from her eager mouth, stood up and left. She was neither satisfied in her stomach, or in her mind. Both were tugging at her, making her distracted. She got to work with the implements on the walls, a nice distraction for a long night.

Monday – treadmill

The morning came quickly. She had no sense of time in her empty room. Well, as she found last night, not quite as empty any more. There were stocks in the middle of the room and a wall full of implements, their range of uses still curious to her. She was given the task last night to try some of them out on herself. Essentially to touch them, feel what their possibilities may be.

The tools were arranged in categories. There were paddles, she recognized them from the sorority and fraternity aisle at her college book store. She didn't think people every really got paddled, but she did have thoughts of it as she was buying her notebooks for the semester. There were plastic and metal handles with hang-ey things. She believed they were called floggers, but she had never seen so many different kinds. Most of her time in the room the previous night was spent with the floggers, finding the tickle-y parts fun. Her boss had used one on her the previous night, but the force and feeling he put into it was not what she felt when she did it to herself.

She did a quick look at her naked body in the dim early morning light. There were a few red marks, and only two spots showing signs of a bruise, a bit purple and intense. She couldn't remember all the feelings and the implements that went with them, but she did recall the flog on the side of torso, and there was certainly a bruise forming there.

Her boss entered as she was doing her self assessment. He was already dressed. The bucket was still chained around her ankle. He told her to use the bucket to piss in, and when she was done, she was to get her breakfast in the kitchen. She hesitated, thinking he was going to leave her alone, but he just stood in the doorway watching as she took the lid off and hovered over the plastic. After he heard her stream stop, he left her to figure out how to get dry without toilet paper. She just sat there, hoping to drip dry. She put the lid back on and carried her bucket to the kitchen. She felt a bit awkward with the chain making noise and the bucket blocking her view of her feet going down the stairs.

Her bowl of oatmeal was on the floor and he pushed her down to eat. As she was devouring her breakfast, he spoke to her. He said he was pleased at the tools she chose to experiment with but that she was too easy on herself. As her hair was getting in her food and she was concentrating on getting rid of her hunger, she questioned how he knew what tools she tried. And then she realized, he could watch her from his phone... it was the same room as the stocks. He explained that she showed bravery in trying an implement she had never used, but that the belts, paddles and all of the metal implements had usefulness too.

When the bowl was empty, he pulled her head back by her hair, looked her in the eyes, evaluated her messy face. he quickly unlocked the chain from her ankle, leaving her piss pot in the kitchen and pulled her up to a standing position by her hair. They headed up to his bedroom. She was very nervous, afraid of what would happen there. He quickly directed her to his private bathroom, bypassing his meticulously made bed.

She was pushed into the shower, the water was turned on and he finally let go of her hair. He closed the glass door and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. The water was cold, not ice cold, but definitely uncomfortable. She immediately washed the breakfast off her face, and then focused on her hair. She was hoping it would get warmer, but out of the corner of her eye, saw that it was set to cold on purpose. She hurriedly used the shampoo, and soap. When she was thoroughly clean, he opened the door and gave her a towel. As she stepped out, he turned the water off. As she finished, she noticed clothes laid out. They were different than what she had worn to his house, but not unfamiliar.

He told her to dress and meet him downstairs, ready for work. Her hair was still wet, and she didn't like leaving like that. She put the clothes on, in the quiet, empty dark room. She was not given panties, but the skirt was cute, an old wool one he must have found in her closet as it fit perfectly.

He set out new shoes. These were red, suede and 4". She found she had become quite proficient at this height. She admired them a bit before heading down. She found the living room empty but could hear the car in the garage ready to go. She felt a bit flustered, no keys or purse required. She, gingerly got in the car, reintroducing the dildo into her vagina, ready for the ride to work. She smiled at her boss, happy to complete his instructions. He did not return the smile.

They headed to work. After she passed her desk, she immediately went to the treadmill in his office. There were no clothes, just shoes set out for her to wear. These were the 5" patent leather ones. She quickly removed her clothes, and got on the treadmill for her 30 minute morning workout. He did not watch her today, but spent time in his private restroom.

With 5 minutes to go, he reappeared, not in his typical work clothes, but a terry cloth robe. She continued walking, tracking him with her eyes. She was confused. He sat in the closest chair to watch her finish. As the time ticked down, he got more agitated, crossing and re-crossing his legs.

When the time ran out, her boss immediately stood up. As the mechanical belt slowed and she stopped in her high heels, he was standing directly behind her. She felt him on the treadmill, his chest against her back. He leaned forward, she put her arms out to brace against the treadmill controls and screen. He walked forward a little bit, enough that her naked breasts were pushed against the machine. Her vagina was yelling again.... to have her filled.

He untied his robe, rested the cheek of his face between her shoulder blades. He found his hard dick and searched to find her hole. He knew it would be sopping after the walk. He found the area, fingered the opening to "test" and then got most of himself in.

She felt him fumbling, obviously excited. She tried to better position her hips and ass for an angle that she assumed was the most enjoyable. This required her to fully press her breasts into the machine, her weight mostly on her upper body, his hands supporting her lower by her hip bones. He found the angle. He was fully in. She felt impaled, and very full. She had not had a penis in her for a long time. She had not had her normal orgasm in quite awhile. Her mind was at a constant screech. Wanting to pause time, but also wanting to extend it.

As he started to pulse, in and out, she was finding a rhythm to help accentuate the experience. She was matching his thrust with hers, using gravity to help the intensity. He was touching her deepest parts.

She had a moment of looking from outside herself, her breasts bouncing, her boss helping to hold her legs and ass at an angle best for his penetration. She was wondering how she got there, but also how wonderful it was. Her mind was going through waves of bliss. Not yet an orgasm, but moments of serene stillness, tingles on the face, arms, moments of unfeeling entirely. And then it happened, her mind had gone from complete dark, within itself to bright white. Screaming at her. Her eyes, ears, taste and skin were on fire. Seemingly flexing all muscles at once, involuntarily, painful but wanted simultaneously. She had no idea how long it lasted, but relished the gush of comfort it gave her.

When she realized where she was, she was draped over the treadmill. He was supporting her by her arm pits. The smell was intoxicating. She felt so happy, but also uncomfortable. This was not a common spot, slumping over her exercise machine, a hot man she could feel behind her. The glow over her body was not controlled but required from her boss.

Gently he helped her to his couch. She could not talk. She had no words and he could tell she needed some quiet. He covered her naked body with a blanket. She felt she was on a cloud... warm and appreciated. The gifts she was just given, her portal to a bliss she could not express, but was absorbing, mind body and soul.

She awoke, unaware of anything that had happened. She let it soak in at the time, but the new feelings were bizarre. Were undiscovered until now. She searched out a clock. She had slept the entire day. Had not completed any work! It was time for her second 30 minute workout. She was worried about where her boss was. She removed the blanket to find she was still naked with the high heels on.

She completed the 30 minutes with a bit of angst, dripping from her vagina, thighs lubricating themselves. As she dressed into her clothes he reappeared. The precise moment she was done, she was told it was time to go home. She put herself on the dildo easily in the passenger seat, fluids dripping.

Once home, she was told to pick up her bucket and head to her room. A few minutes later, she was confronted. Told to strip. He chained the bucket to her again and left her alone, naked and horny. As she was still leaking juices, and now acutely aware that he was possibly still watching her every move, she froze.

Muesday – crescendo

She was still. Sitting naked on the floor of a room with just stocks and a tools on the wall. It was dark. She could not figure out the time. Her piss post chained to her ankle was starting to smell, even with the lid on. She was left to sit on the floor and think. She was there, legs crossed, the smell of her pussy wafting to her nose, stronger than her bucket. She had not eaten most of the day. Just the oatmeal from her bowl on the floor, that was mostly in her hair by the end.

To ease the grumblings in her stomach and also her urge to touch her wet pussy, her mind traveled quickly to earlier that day. She had done nothing at work, but slept as she never had before. She was constantly weighing the good and bad of the day. The time on the treadmill, the support of her boss as she lost her ability to stand. Her inability to work as she was naked, sleeping on her bosses couch. That was probably the reason for her being up now. She had not realized how much stress she was under, or how little sleep she had been getting. A room without a clock, but instruments to cause her pain were keeping her burning the candle at both ends. Mentally she went back to what she had been doing the night before, testing the tools. Finding what a flogger could do to her. She looked at the few bruises she had, and rubbed them as if she could feel their texture, the leather, or what ever had caused them. She closed her eyes, relishing the memory.

When she finally decided that her mind could move on and attack another topic, like the minute details of being fucked on the treadmill, she opened her eyes. He was standing in the door way. She had no idea how she couldn't hear him. It must be that when completely focused, all of her senses did not completely work, her hearing failing her now. He did not look upset, his arms were not crossed. He looked like he wanted to know what she had written on the inside of her eyelids that he had interrupted.

He walked in and noticed the piss bucket was as far away from her as possible. He pulled it closer, right in front of his secretary. He then sat on it, looking down on her. He put his chin on his hand and just watched her. Not staring. Nothing creepy, just watched her. She got a bit nervous, like she was supposed to be doing something, supposed to say something. She simply looked back, trying to absorb any vibe he may be sending out. Any indication of what she should do for him.

Was he thinking I did something wrong? Was he just watching me, my breathing? Did he smell my pussy like I did? What if he starts using one of the tools on the wall, but is just trying to decide which one? Did his last secretary sit here just like me and think these things? What happened to her? All of these thoughts in her head.

His first words. Are you hungry? She nodded, nervous and said yes. He produced a granola bar. He removed the wrapper and handed the little food to her. He put the crinkly refuse back in his pocket. She ate it slowly, but wanted to stuff it ravenously in her mouth. While she enjoyed her snack, he watched again.

Curtly he started talking. Talking about how the events that morning were not usually given to his secretaries. Especially on their second week anniversary. He had enjoyed their professional relationship but felt it prudent to bring up a possible personal relationship to the conversation. He asked her questions like why she left on Sunday, but came back. Why she brought back pieces of her life that were insignificant. How she was adjusting to her new job. She answered truthfully, every time. She left, thinking she belonged on her own, in her own apartment. The thought of getting rest, away from her boss after sleeping in odd, uncomfortable places was appealing. She then told of her emptiness, sadness, and panic as she arrived in her empty apartment. The hole missing in her head and heart. The loss that she initiated and could fix by returning to his house. She collected possessions in the mayhem of her mind knowing she had to leave. She wasn't thinking about the items, but getting back. She had never left to go someplace without thinking of what she would need there, so her habits filled the void. She had not thought about her new job much. The greatest effects on her recent life had been sudden, but surprisingly not unwarranted. She was loving her walks, even if they challenged her. She was liking that her diet and exercise were no longer a concern, but she just did as was told. This is when she told him that she was often hungry. He nodded, a listening look.

This is when he stood up and removed the piss pot from her via the chained ankle. As he moved the metal out of the way, he quickly and confidently took two fingers to check her wetness, sitting open as she was. He smelled the genuine musk and then licked his own fingers, in front of her, seeing the saliva and wetness come to her mouth. The envy in her eyes focused on his fingers and the taste he must have just had of her was apparent in her now hard nipples. The second time he had tasted her, and she knew from the tingle below, it would not be hard to give more where that came from.

He offered his hand as he had before, indicating she should stand. She stood with his help. He very politely apologized for not showing her his house. A quick tour. Her immediate reaction was this is very personal for him. Like he was revealing a part of himself. They started with the room she was in. It was called the hook room. They went down the hall, and he unlocked the door she could not open. The bathroom it was called. It was dusty and did not look like it was used often. The second bedroom was completely empty. Wood floors, black painted walls and a boarded window. This was the alone room. He then brought her into his room. He quickly just showed her around into it's attached bathroom, that she'd seen that morning and then escorted out. They went down the stairs to the living room, on the right. It had the door to the garage and the front door. To the left, the galley kitchen with dining at the end. He demonstrated the patio door opened. He bypassed the locked door she had assumed was the basement and they were up to his bedroom again.

He led her to the end of his bed, indicating she should sit. He did not. He deliberately turns, straddling her legs, putting his crotch in her face. She was having flashbacks to the shower on her knees. It was odd though, he crouched down in front of her instead of forcing his dick in her face. Now eye to eye. He took her by the face, hands cupping her jaw bones. He looked her in the eyes. He said that he wanted to sleep next to her.

Her vagina shot out a crescendo of tingle. She was excited. He then explained they had only had a professional relationship. Her mind was swarming, looking into his eyes. This, sitting in his bedroom was professional? The sex on the treadmill was professional? She chose to focus and find those answers later. He explained he had issues with moving too fast. Her mind went Wherlskaj!!!! That he wanted her to be near her, to protect her. That they had gone very fast, but he was asking if it was okay for one act of intimacy for now.

She was confused. Wanting to have the fast-forward button, just so she could come back to this moment. She agreed, hesitantly, but had not entirely been disillusioned before, so semi-confident.

He asked for her to sleep beside him, in the cage beside the bed. It was a huge departure from what he'd done before, but he thought with her breathing and body heat next to him, he would feel safer. Her thoughts were she would feel safer in a cage, away from him.... but then she laughed, thinking about his care and giving nature earlier on the treadmill. He was eager for her presence. She was eager for his. Despite their snap thoughts, it was decided that is how it should be. A mutual calm, her face glowing.