Staci in Paradise Ch. 04

Orlando worked out well for me job wise. I got the usual resistance from a couple of the managers to having a new female boss - especially one who could have passed for a sixteen year old schoolgirl. I worked hard to gain everyone's trust and confidence; they came around slowly.

I had a nice bit of savings by now. I put some of it on a down payment and bought a nice house in a good neighborhood, not too big, not too ostentatious. I traded in my Honda for a new Mercedes.

Outside of work I didn't have much of a social life. No time! I was putting in twelve hours a day, seven days a week minimum - not because I had to, because my job was fun. I was having fun!

The women I worked with were mostly secretaries, a few programmers; only one other female manager. They were friendly but more or less avoided me. Afraid of the girl executive. Nobody tried to get too close to me.

Nobody but Maria that is - but more about Maria later.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Things were going well, productivity was up, the VPs and CEO were pleased. We decided to upgrade servers. Called for proposals; selected the five best, requested formal presentations.

And so one day I found myself in the presentation room with all five managers and a few of the technical staff. We were doing two a day presentations; a vendor team would come in in the morning, give their presentation, then another in the afternoon. Second day, fourth team.

They marched into the room, five men and one woman, dressed in business suits. One of the managers introduced everyone.

One of the men was a tall, handsome guy in a dark grey suit named George Smith.

I still wore my hair long but usually kept it in a bun as I had today. George squinted at me; I knew he was thinking he recognized me, but wasn't quite certain. At the dungeon I used the name Yvonne (in honor of Yvonne DeCarlo, the witch mother in the old Addams Family TV show); I was introduced as Staci. I wore blue contacts at the dungeon to cover my light brown eyes.

Although I doubted George ever looked at anything other than my feet or my tits.

Anyway, I could tell he didn't want to risk asking, how could the little strumpet from Atlanta be the IT director of this company? No way, he was probably thinking.

They gave a good but not outstanding presentation. We'd already more or less decided on the second company anyway. After the presentation they invited us all out to dinner (this was customary). I accepted as did a couple of the managers. We arranged to meet later that evening at a local restaurant.

All through dinner I saw the look of confusion on George's face. I sounded the same but that didn't mean anything; I had very little accent or other distinguishing verbal features. I was dressed in a conservative grey skirt, white shirt, and grey jacket with taupe low heel pumps. I noticed George sneaking glances at my shoes from time to time; I knew he noticed the low heels.

Yvonne had always worn six inch spike heels.

The conversation continued pleasantly. I found out George was from the Orlando area, had lived here the last ten years. He'd been engaged but broke it off a few months back. He didn't say why; nobody asked. The other guys and the woman (her name was Grace) had similar stories.

I told them I was from Texas (true) and had been in Orlando for about six months (also true). I didn't mention Atlanta or ever living elsewhere.

After dinner we had a few drinks; then I begged off, using the excuse that I had to get up early for work. I excused myself, walked out and handed my keys to the valet, and got in my Mercedes.

I drove around the block, stopped down the street from the restaurant and parked. George and two other men came out after about twenty minutes, got their car, and left. I was pleased to note that George was driving.

I followed them at a respectful distance. George dropped the others off one at a time then drove on to an apartment complex. He pulled into the parking lot; I turned in behind him. As he parked and got out of his car I pulled up beside him.

"Get in." I commanded.

His eyes got wide as saucers. "Y-yvonne?" he stammered. I didn't answer, just pointed to the passenger door. Finally able to move, he pulled the handle, got in.

He started to say something but I cut him off. "Shut up, George."

I drove a couple of blocks, then pulled over. Reaching in my purse I pulled out a silk scarf. He drew back a bit but yielded as I tied the scarf around his eyes. I didn't want him to see where we were going.

I drove on without another word, to my house. Not directly there; it was only about a half mile from his apartment. I drove around a bit first with the silent, blindfolded man in the seat next to me. Finally I turned in to my street, pulled into the drive. Opened the garage door with the remote, pulled in. Cut the engine, closed the door with the remote.

"Ok, George," I told him, "You can take the blindfold off now."

He pulled the scarf off his head. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Somewhere you won't be able to find," I answered. "Scared?"

"N-no..."

"Liar!" I chuckled. "No matter. Come with me."

He followed me to the living room. I sat on one end of the couch in the center of the room; I indicated George should sit on the other end.

"George, darling," I said, "I know you recognized me - or thought you did, anyway. I know it'll be a matter of time before you check me out, find out I moved here from Atlanta."

George started to protest, but I cut him off. "Shut up, George!" I commanded. "Then next thing, people will start wondering and at best it'll cause me a lot of trouble and at worst I might lose my job. So I decided to bring you here to head things off."

He looked puzzled. "Let me explain," I went on. "As of right now you will forget Yvonne, forget you ever knew anyone with that name and will never ever try to bother me in any way. Because if you do I'll go to the police, claim you've been following and harassing me, that you've been threatening me and I'm scared. Who do you think they'll believe, George?"

I saw comprehension in his eyes. "You have no proof that I was ever someone called Yvonne, or that I worked in a dungeon. I on the other hand have excellent records of my past employment and education so if you don't want to get locked up as a perv you'll do as I say and not bother me."

George was looking down, at my feet. Damn, I thought, foot perv to the end! I took his face in my right hand, pulled it up and looked directly into his eyes. "Do you understand, George?"

"Yes," he said in a soft, plaintive voice. "Yes, Yvonne...I mean, Staci." He paused one, two, three breaths; then he softly added, "Mistress Staci."

Damn, damn, damn! Damn little perv, why'd he have to be so damn cute, why'd he have to have those soft brown bedroom eyes? Why'd he have to have that flat stomach and those muscled arms and why, oh why was I wondering if his tongue would feel as good on my pussy as it'd felt on my toes all those months ago?

I sighed. "Ok, George," I said. "Here's the deal: I won't deny it'd be fun to play with you. Would you like that, darling George?"

"Yes, Mistress. I want that more than anything - if it pleases you."

"All right then, here's the ground rules. In Atlanta we did what you wanted. Her we do what I want. Do you understand?"

He nodded, apparently unable to speak. "You will do WHATEVER I say WHENEVER I say and FOR AS LONG AS I want, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress"

"Good. And I like that, you will continue to address me as 'Mistress'", I continued. I smiled at him. "Last chance to chicken out! I warn you, George, you will not enjoy everything I'm about to do with you!"

"No, Mistress, I want it," George breathed huskily.

"Wait here," I told him.

I went into my bedroom, pulled the door closed behind me. I was breathing hard, flushed. It had been so long since I'd had a man, over a year. I was excited, nervous. I knew George well, better than most women I thought with an inward smirk. I'd seen his beautiful body naked at my feet many times.

I'd see him there tonight, I knew.

I took my time - he wasn't going anywhere, I knew. I stripped off my clothes, started the shower. Took a hot shower, running the water over my body then climbed out. Sitting in front of the dressing mirror I took a couple of hairpins out and let my hair down, out of its bun. I combed it straight, glistening black, down to my waist.

I carefully put in the blue contacts, made myself up using lots of eyeliner and blush - more slutty that I'd done in months. I found my black witch's dress in the closet. A black thong and bra. Thigh high black stockings. And the black pumps.

The black pumps with the six inch heels.

I looked myself over in the mirror. Staci was gone; Yvonne stared back with her slutty blue eyes. The toes weren't painted and fingernails were a normal peach shade but they'd have to do.

I slowly and carefully put on my hooker red lipstick.

All ready! I took a deep breath, pulled open the door that Staci had walked out of an hour before.

Yvonne walked back in.

George stared up at me. I heard him gasp, saw his wyes widen as he saw his beloved Yvonne standing in front of him. "Thank God!" He exclaimed, "I thought I'd lost you!"

And with not another word he fell to his knees in front of me, looking down at the toes of my shoes.

I felt a rush of power, more intense than I'd felt in months. I'd almost forgotten how sweet this could be, a man on his knees before me, begging to be used, to be abused in any manner I saw fit. And now we were in my house; the rules of the dungeon didn't apply.

I had a lot of things planned. Most wouldn't have been allowed at the dungeon.

"Remove your clothes," I commanded my slave, "Fold them and put them neatly on the floor. Then crawl on your knees to my bed." I went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, leaving the door open.

In a few minutes George crawled obediently in, naked as commanded. I felt a rush of heat and wetness as I saw his naked male form, beautiful in its perfection. I couldn't help noticing his huge erection, bobbing and weaving as he crawled, the head purple, shiny from pre come already.

His need was obvious.

He'd be satisfied all right, but only as a side effect of my satisfaction. This night was all about me!

I stood, reached behind me, unzipped the black dress; let it fall to the floor. I stood before him dressed in bra, thong, pumps, and stockings.

"Like it?" I asked. He looked up, nodded. Judging by the way his cock throbbed I knew he wasn't lying!

I turned around, facing the bed. My ass was inches from his face, my thong a black ribbon down the middle. "Kiss me, George," I ordered him, "Kiss my ass!"

George rushed to comply, showering my cheeks with quick kisses. I pulled away.

"No, slower," I told him. "Stop every few kisses and thank me for the privilege of allowing you to kiss my ass."

I moved back to him. He began to kiss my, alternating cheeks, long, slow, wet kisses, licking as he nuzzled. He did as I'd ordered, stopping frequently to breathe, "Thank you, thank you, Mistress!"

This felt great; I felt in control, empowered. At the same time it wasn't particularly stimulating. I knew as hot and ready as I was I'd cum almost immediately if I allowed George anywhere near my pussy or my toes. Even my breasts weren't safe! I wanted him to work a bit before I rewarded him with a climax.

I closed my eyes, swaying a bit on my heels. After a bit I stopped him, stepped out of my heels and kicked them across the room, pulled my stockings off. I felt his eyes go to my bare feet.

"No!" I barked. "Keep kissing my ass!"

He jerked his head up and obeyed, again showering my ass cheeks with long, slow kisses. He gradually grew braver, moving closer to the thin satin ribbon in the center. I wriggled a bit, encouraging him, feeling him nuzzle my nether regions, kissing and licking, moving the thong aside with his tongue, licking my anus.

I was beginning to go, I knew! I could feel myself responding to his kissing and licking, swaying, my eyes half closed.

I suddenly jerked away. Not yet! I pulled myself back from the brink. Turning, I looked down at George. He had a sad, puppy dog look on his face, as though I'd stolen his candy bar instead of pulling my ass off his face.

I had to get control back! I crossed the room, picked up one of the black pumps, threw it at him. He caught it and without being told began licking it as he'd done in Atlanta all those months ago.

I sat on the bed and watched for a few minutes. Slowly I came down from my impending climax. Gradually I regained control.

I pulled my shoe away. "On the bed, George!" I ordered him. "Lay down face up."

He obediently lay on his back on the bed. Going to a drawer in my dresser I pulled out a couple of pair of panty hose. They should work for this, I thought.

I tied one leg of one of the pair of panty hose to his left wrist, the leg of another to his right wrist. I pulled first one then the other around the bed post and secured them. Next I repeated this with his ankles. He was spread eagled, secured.

I fetched another scarf, tied it around his eyes, blindfolding him. He couldn't see now, perfect! I looked down at my handiwork. One thing missing, I thought.

Reaching down I pulled my thong off. I hadn't worn it long but it was soaked with my girl juices. Smiling, I crawled up on the bed, pulled the thong over George's head, positioning the sopping wet crotch directly over his nose and mouth.

Every breath would remind him of me, I thought.

I slipped out the bedroom door and turned off the lights, pulling the door closed behind me. I walked over to the couch and turned on the TV using the remote. Flipped a few channels. Found a chick flick on HBO, about half over. I curled up and watched it for about an hour.

Finally I opened the bedroom door, went in quietly. I'd expected George's excitement to have subsided somewhat but after an hour his cock was still engorged, hard, pointing at the ceiling. He was an amazing man!

I discarded my bra, moved onto the bed, now as naked as he. Still blindfolded, he couldn't see me.

I dangled my left breast over his mouth, lower, lightly brushing his lips with my nipple. He jerked as the hard point brush his lips.

I felt him open his mouth, raise a bit. I allowed him to suckle my nipple, enjoying the feeling as he sucked and kissed it. Alternating to the other nipple I allowed George to worship my right breast for a bit; then back to my left...Back and forth.

I'd been correct, I was now so hot and wet and ready just having this minimal attention to my breasts was going to result in a climax. I felt myself begin to go...I rose off him, panting a bit.

I fought for control, fought to regain myself. I pulled myself back from the brink, sitting on the bed.

I finally was able to continue. I put my right leg over George's prone body, placing my knee even with his waist, facing his feet. His beautiful cock was inches in front of my eyes. I wanted to lick it and suck it, feel him explode inside my mouth, swallow his seed, taste his maleness. Later, I told myself.

I bent low, my mouth an inch above his swollen glans. I opened my mouth, exhaled warmth onto him. I was rewarded by increased pulsing and a fresh sheen of pre-cum on the head.

I knew he'd go off immediately if I took him in my mouth.

I raised a bit and slid back slowly, positioning my hips above George's mouth. "Lick me!" I commanded gutturally, lowering myself onto his mouth.

George obliged eagerly. His tongue was like a live thing, tossing the swollen bud of my clit from side to side violently. I fought back my climax against this assault, telling myself it was too soon, too soon! Unable to stand more without going over the edge I raised off him.

"Stick your tongue inside me!" I ordered. "All the way in, I want to feel you all the way in me!" I lowered myself again. This time I felt his tongue slide deep inside my slick pussy, felt my juices running down into his mouth. I lay still, relishing the feeling of being tongue fucked.

Almost automatically my hips began to buck and roll. I fought the urge to move as much as I was able, remaining as still as possible. Minutes passed. It felt wonderful.

Raising off George I moved down, grasped his maleness in one hand, and impaled myself on it, taking its full length inside myself. I moaned involuntarily; it felt wonderful!

"Don't you DARE cum!" I ordered. "If you cum before I give you permission I'll make you lick it all out, every drop! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he mumbled.

I was still on him, enjoying the feeling of fullness. I knew if I moved I'd climax almost immediately; I suspected he would also. Time for that later.

I rose off George's massive member, watching it appear from inside me, now glistening with my juices. Scooting back again I lowered myself back onto his tongue, drawing the smaller appendage into the place his dick had recently resided. Again I lay still for several minutes.

I repeated this over and over, onto his massive, swollen appendage, lay still; onto his tongue, lay still. It was driving us both crazy! I tried to bark orders a couple of times; the only thing that came out was a guttural moan, completely unintelligible.

Finally I couldn't stand it! With his cock deep inside me I began to slowly raise and lower myself, almost withdrawing him from me on, plunging back down. Two strokes...three...four...

"Mistress...Please..." I heard him beg. I knew he was about to explode, I wanted it, wanted to feel his seed spurting inside me, yet I refused to give my permission! Faster and faster I humped him, torturing him, cruelly using him!

I felt him stiffen, felt him jerk and spasm as he shot hot spurts of cum deep inside me. His climax triggered my own. I screamed and cried out, feeling myself clenching, squeezing, and milking the last drop from him.

I'd warned him! I'd not given permission. As soon as my climax began to wind down I pulled up and back, trailing gobs of white man-juice out of my slick pussy.

I quickly moved back, perching on his mouth. "Tongue!" I commanded. "Lick me!"

He obliged reluctantly, obviously tasting his fluids for the first time, but he was tied, helpless - what choice did he have? I began to hump his face, drawing his tongue in and out of my sopping hole, feeling his sperm draining out into his mouth. I heard him swallow frantically, taking the remains of our love into his mouth, down his throat.

Faster... I mover a bit, allowed him to tease my clit with his tongue. It was heavenly! Not holding back now I came hard, clamping down on his face cruelly. I heard him grunt in pain, but I didn't care!

Again and again I humped George's face; again and again his talented tongue brought me off. I came and came and came. It had been too long since I'd had a man! I was devouring him! I fully intended to fuck him to death!

I don't know how long this went on; hours I think. After a bit I noticed he was hard again. This time he lasted longer when I again put him inside me but in the end he couldn't stand my violent humping and again came without permission. This time he didn't protest as I forced him to swallow his own seed he'd placed inside me.

Finally I was exhausted. I lay on the bed for a bit, panting, regaining my breath, then got up. I left George tied on the bed, covered in our combined sweaty sex wetness from head to foot. I started the shower, took a long, hot shower.

I pulled on some panties, a bra, shorts, a top, and slipped flip flops on my feet. I padded into the living room, gathered George's clothes.

Returning to the bedroom I tossed the clothes on the bed. Poor George was still blindfolded and tied hand and foot. I untied him; he pulled the scarf off.