Nina Finds Love and Discipline
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Maintaining Office Discipline free porn video
I walk into your office, legs already trembling. I have never been called in front of the Manager before. Usually, my misbehavior is dealt with at a much lower level.
My supervisor and my Head of Department are already there. I stand waiting while you make notes on a file before deigning to notice me. You stand, going to the door, and closing it, before returning to your desk. A flick of a switch and your secretary replies on the intercom.
"Yes, Mister Williams?"
"No calls until I tell you, Shirley," you tell her, "this could take a while."
"Yes, Mister Williams."
I can hear the smirk in her voice, even in that short phrase. Stuck-up bitch. She has never liked me. Not since she caught me in the stationery room with her boyfriend at the last Christmas party.
You do not ask me to sit, so I stand, nervously waiting.
"Miss Taylor," you say, looking at me at last, "I have had some rather disturbing reports from your supervisor, Mister Banner, about your conduct."
I say nothing, but my supervisor nods emphatically.
"You had a recent interview about the matter with your Departmental Head, Miss Roberts, I believe," you continue, "but I gather that you are still not complying with her instructions, is this correct."
"Yes, Sir," I reply.
"May we know why?" you ask, "it seems a perfectly reasonable thing from where I sit."
"Because, how I dress, and what I wear, are not her business," I state, "I do my work and nobody has ever complained about the quality of my work, that surely is what matters."
"What matters, is the effect you have on the rest of the staff," my supervisor interjects, "it is disruptive."
"Quite, Mister Banner," you tell him. "Just what is the problem?"
"You can see for yourself," Mr. Banner tells you, "look at her. No bra, nipples showing clearly through that blouse, which is always half unbuttoned, skirt much too short, and slit high up the leg, showing stocking tops. And I hear rumors from the younger lads, that she never wears any panties, so they get a good eyeful if she has her legs open, or if she bends to look in a low drawer."
I see a spark of interest in your eyes as you hear this.
"Bend forward," you order, "from the waist, down towards my desk."
I do so, feeling my blouse fall away from my body, giving you a clear view inside it. I feel myself blushing as you look, knowing what you can see.
"Sit down," you tell me, "legs open slightly please."
I comply, knowing my skirt is short enough so you will see what you are expecting to see.
"Now turn round and bend," you order, " as though you were looking in a low file drawer."
I do as you tell me, bending from the waist, feeling my skirt ride up over my buttocks. I stay in that position for what feels like ages, until you finally tell me to stand up.
After a while, you turn to Mr. Banner and Miss Roberts.
"You two may go now," you tell them, "I will deal with this matter, and let you know the outcome."
They look disappointed but leave reluctantly. You lock the door after them.
"You are giving me a problem, Miss Taylor," you tell me, "I assume you like this job, and need this job?"
"Yes, Sir," I reply, "I enjoy working here."
"You do know I can sack you with no problem at all," you ask, "and I am tempted to do so, but I would prefer it if we could find a mutually attractive alternative."
"Thank you, Mr. Williams," I answer, eyes down and head slightly bowed.
"Suppose you agree to accept punishment from me?" you smile, "and try to be more compliant in the future?"
"I will accept any punishment you want to give me, Sir, anything at all," I murmur, "and would I have to come to you for further punishment if I slip again in the future?"
"Let us see how this punishment goes, before talking about more." you state, walking to the blinds on the internal windows, and closing them.
"Bend over the desk," you order, once you are sat in your chair.
I do so, watching as your breathing gets heavier.
"Take off the blouse," you command, "let me see what the fuss is all about."
I stand up, undoing the remaining two buttons, then slipping it off, leaving me topless.
"Now the skirt," you tell me.
I unclasp it, pull down the zip and let it fall unheeded to the floor. I am left in just white stockings and suspender belt. You clear your throat as you gaze at my secret parts.
"Any punishment?" you ask.
"Anything at all, Sir," I reply, looking straight at you for the first time, and smiling, "anything."
You go to your desk drawer, then come and stand behind me, a hand stroking my bottom.
"Bend over the desk," you growl, "far over as you can reach."
I comply, bending from the waist as expected of me. You go around to your side of the desk and clip pink furry handcuffs onto my wrists. A cord is tied to the joining chain and led under the desk, where you tie it off, holding me in place. You return to stand behind me, stroking my bum again, now it is being displayed so prominently.
"Open your legs wide," you demand, "I said wide, wider than that,"
I force my legs as wide as I can get them, and you tie cord to each ankle, then tie the other ends to the legs of the heavy desk. My belly is pressed onto the desk top, and you move papers and files from under me.
Then you walk behind me, seeing how wide stretched my legs are and how open my pussy now is. Your hand traces a path up my inner thigh, forcing a wriggle and a soft moan from me. I do not know if it was the wiggle or the moan that encouraged you, but both hands start slowly creeping up my inner thighs, rubbing softly, and stopping fractions of an inch before touching me on my wet and hungry pussy.
Time and time again the stroking is repeated, until I am squirming for you, hoping for more, and moaning softly. You switch your attention and caresses to the cheeks of my bottom, rubbing and squeezing, fingers tracing along the stretched open crack, and teasing the tightly puckered bum-hole.
You stand, your crotch brushing against my ass.
"I think a spanking is in order to start with," you inform me, "You will count each stroke and thank me after each. You will receive ten strokes, and if you forget the count, we will start again from one. Is that understood?"
"Yes," I answer, getting a sharp smack in return.
"I said, is that understood?" you repeat.
"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir." I give as my corrected response.
I tense, expecting a hand to make contact. Instead, burning pain across both cheeks of my stretched bum.
"One, thank you, Sir," I remember to say, just in time.
I catch a glimpse of your hand holding what looks like a carpet slipper, just before the next stroke.
"Two, thank you, Sir," I say, my voice shaky.
Another smack, spreading the fiery stinging.
"Three, thank you, Sir," I manage to get out.
I wait, tensed. Nothing. Then smack!
I scream briefly, before reciting, "Four, thank you, Sir."
Fingers rubbing gently, checking there is no damage, then...Smack!
"Five, thank you, Sir," I sob.
Another smack, not as hard, but still enough to sting.
"Six, thank you, Sir."
Another smack, not as bad. Oh God, how many, think, Six? No, more must be more.
"Seven, thank you, Sir," I remembered just in time.
That was close. Must focus. SMACK! Harder than any other, you must have changed hands. I yell loudly. Then,
"Eight, thank you, Sir," I gasp, tears falling down my face.
SMACK!
"Nine, thank you, Sir."
Now feeling the wetness between my outstretched legs.
SMACK!
"Ten, thank you, Sir." I manage to keep my voice level as I complete the count.
My backside is on fire, burning stinging pain spread across both cheeks, competing with a fire starting in my pussy demanding my attention.
You drop the slipper, running hands over my tortured bum, then down between my legs, feeling the wetness already starting to run down my legs. You slide fingers inside my slit, rubbing softly back and forward, making me moan and tremble. Then you move away.
I want to scream, as the fingers stop working in me, and I try in vain to find something, anything to rub against. With my legs so wide apart, I cannot get the tiniest bit of pressure where I need it.
You stand at your desk on your side. My head is at the perfect height for what you intend. You unzip your trousers, releasing your cock. I am impressed, not expecting something so large from a man in his fifties. You grip my hair, pushing the swollen cock into my mouth, then sway back and forth, face-fucking me.
I open my mouth wide and move my head slightly so I can take all your length, the whole shaft up to your balls, teasing the tip with my tongue, and letting my teeth scrape gently along the rigid pole. Your hips are thrusting, pumping your prick in and out of my mouth, enjoying the physical sensations created as well as the pure psychological dominance of owning your own come-slut.
Your hands have moved to grip my tits, squeezing them hard as the face-fucking goes on, Then, after what feels like an age, you are coming, cock twitching, warm jets of cum hitting my throat, forcing me to swallow faster as you pump more and more into my unresisting mouth.
You move in and out more slowly after the initial surge, letting me suck you clean. Then you sit, and look at me as if considering what to do next, while your breathing returns to normal.
You zip yourself up, then pick up the internal phone.
"Shirley, bring me that small box I gave you last week to look after for me," you say.
"Yes, Mr. Williams," she replies.
I look at you in disbelief.
"No, please, " I beg, "You cannot let her see me like this, please?"
A knock at the door, you go and unlock it for her. She walks in, putting the box on the desk and looking at me, filing away the image of her "rival" tied helpless. Your cum still on my chin, hair disheveled, tear tracks on my face, bottom still pink and obviously recently spanked.
"I believe you know Miss Taylor, Shirley," you state.
"Slightly," she tells you, "please buzz me if you need any help with her punishment, I would be only too pleased to assist."
She stalks out imperiously. Snooty cow. You sit back at your desk, looking at me. Eventually, you take something from the box and walk around the desk to stand behind me.
You caress my poor bruised bottom, then I feel something sliding into my warm wet slit. At first, I think it is you starting to fuck me, but it is not large enough, although it does fill me somewhat. A vibe, I wonder?
You return to your chair and hold something up for me to see. Small, oblong, like a miniature mobile phone. Buttons, and an LCD screen? Understanding dawns on me. It is the control box for a remote control vibe. One of the newer ones I think. Oh no, surely you would not do that to me?
"This is the control of a remote control vibrator," you explain, "multi function, multi-speed, and guaranteed to make any female come, and with a range of about twenty-five meters, I believe. So more or less anywhere in the office, and all I need do is press the buttons. Like this,"
You demonstrate, watching as I start to tremble and squirm, then turning it off.
"I am tempted to give this to Mr. Banner, your supervisor, and make you wear that for work every day," you smile at me, "maybe he would be able to keep you under control using this."
You press the buttons and again watch as I squirm helplessly, before turning it off again.
"Then again," you continue, "maybe I should keep it myself. It could be amusing watching you come in front of everyone two or three times a day."
I feel myself starting to blush at the thought of it.
"Or I could always let Shirley have it for a day," you smile, a wicked evil smile, "I have a feeling she would enjoy controlling you."
My eyes open in horror at the thought.
"For now," you tell me, "I am going to enjoy watching you until I feel ready to give you the fucking you deserve."
You turn the vibe on, adjusting the controls, watching as I start squirming for you. I feel myself becoming more aroused, hoping for the climax I need so badly. You have it set perfectly for your needs. Hard enough to make me wet and horny, but not quite enough to allow me to come.
I try thrusting my groin forward, but find nothing to grind against. My legs are trembling and I suddenly realize I am whimpering. You tease a nipple, pinching it hard between your fingers, and I cry out loud, and again as the other nipple is treated the same way.
You stand, unzipping the trousers, and squeezing my cheeks to open my mouth. Then you slide inside.
"Gently, this time," you warn me, "I want to get hard, not to come again in your mouth."
I grunt to let you know I understand.
"Remember it," you remind me, "you would not enjoy being left like that for another hour or three until I get hard yet again, would you?"
I get your message very clearly. The idea of remaining tied and denied a climax for another hour or more terrifies me. You face-fuck me slowly and steadily, and I feel your cock growing minute by minute until it is solid.
You pull out almost reluctantly and walk around to stand behind me. The vibe slides in and out as you pump me with it, and I push back on it, enjoying the increase in stimulation. Then it is pushed in as far as it will go.
"Seems a shame to remove it," you murmur, "especially when I want to try the other hole. It is not often I get the chance to bum-fuck a sexy woman."
Your fingers slide into my slit, then withdraw, and I feel wetness on my bum-hole, as you use my own love-juices to lubricate my tight ass. I feel the head of your cock between my bum cheeks, as you pull the cheeks apart, and slowly slide into my tightness.
My cunt spasms as you turn the vibe to full power, and then thrust your cock into my arse, forcing a scream from me at the power of your lunge, then another as I come with the intensity of the vibe.
It is twisting and pulsing against my pussy muscles as it goes through the various functions, and each lunge of your cock compresses my cunt, forcing it to squeeze the vibe tighter as you bum-fuck me.0
I come again even harder as I lie helplessly on the desk, my legs no longer supporting me. You grip my hips hard, pulling yourself into me harder and harder, as I lie twitching, coming again for you, and again, until I feel your warm wetness explode in me, cum filling my back passage, as I squirt violently in another massive climax.
You pull out, sending the last jets of your come over my bum, then turn off the vibe and slide it out, leaving me over the desk, moaning in pure ecstasy at the rough fucking you gave me. You release my wrists and my ankles, then hand me a box of tissues, to clean myself as best I can. I dress, aware of you watching as I hide the things you so recently enjoyed playing with.
"Very good, Miss Taylor," you say, once again the strict manager, "you may go, and please, try to be more agreeable."
"Yes, Sir," I reply as I open the door, "Whatever you say, Sir."
I smile as I leave your office.
"Been taught a lesson, Darling?" Miss Snooty Bitch asks, in that sickly sweet voice.
I go across to her desk, lean over to grab her tit, squeeze as I bend my head and kiss her deeply. Her mouth opens in shock, and I take advantage of that to thrust my tongue inside. My eyes open in surprise, as she responds to my kissing, reaching her hand up to cup my boob.
I leave her room, wondering what will come from that little encounter. And would I really object to her holding the control box?.
Bess
- 16.06.2020
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- Category:
- Office Sex
