EXECUTIVE'S SLUT - CHAPTER 1 free porn video

INTRODUCTION

What happens when a frustrated, compliant, and accommodating housewife is manipulated by a powerful, dominant, and determined man used to getting what he wants in business and life?

This is the story of Karen Samson. The 39 year old housewife married to her 43 year old husband with no c***dren who perhaps read a dozen too many romance books. Her frustration over her married life has evolved so slowly it wasn’t a conscious recognition for her. Gerald Samson is a good man, has always treated her well, works hard at his job, and provides for them to live with some comfort in a residential neighborhood of the city that, at one time, was the suburbs but has since slowly worn down to the blue-collar existence that seems to perfectly fit the life she and Gerald live. He never ‘rocks the boat’, he does his job, is not a leader but follower of directions. His is an excellent manner for what he does for the company. He is a skilled welder in a time when finding such workers is becoming more difficult. He will do whatever the company needs. Never ‘rocks the boat’.

Karen would never complain about Gerald, much less where or how they live. Gerald is still Gerald, the man she met and chose to live her life with happily. Their house and neighborhood is still the same. If Karen was the kind of person to deeply analyze her situation (and she isn’t), she might find that the sameness of her life is the root of her largely undefined and unstated frustration. Frustration might not even be the right expression. Being frustrated would seem to hold a recognition of not being happy, missing something, longing for something else or more. She wouldn’t use those words, not consciously. She certainly wouldn’t verbalize them. Like Gerald, she wouldn’t ‘rock the boat’, initiate conflict, even consider putting herself above Gerald or his job.

So, when Gerald is given the opportunity, the challenge, to work overseas as a lead welder at a new startup facility, and he and Karen are assured the company will ‘take care of’ Karen in his absence, would either of them object or question? No, certainly not. And, Karen certainly wouldn’t question the chain of events even if she understood them. A chain of events that began with a simple completion of an on-line personality test that appeared in her email in-box.




CHAPTER 1: CONDITIONING

I’m pretty sure if you had known me you would be wondering (if not in shock) what I am doing here. ‘Here’ is the office of the CEO of the large company my husband, Gerald, works for. ‘Doing’ … well … I am naked, on my knees in front of the CEO who is sagged back in his desk chair. His slacks are loosened and open, his cock (bigger than Gerald’s who I always had the impression of being average) is hard in my hand and inside my lips. I alternate between licking the length of it, taking it as deep into my mouth as I can while avoiding the impulse to gag, and sucking the head like it is a lollipop.

I don’t even work for this man or the company. Gerald does. Until recently Gerald had never been in this corporate building much less this office. This man wouldn’t normally know who Gerald was. This man, whose cock I am slobbering over greedily, runs an international company from this office. Gerald is a welder, skilled and respected I am told, but a welder many layers in the organization below this office.

Besides, I am unskilled in sucking cock. Heck, the word, cock … I never used that word before. Now I am not only thinking of it like that but devouring it eagerly. An almost stranger’s cock. Only days ago was I even introduced to him and that had been only after Gerald had left for his assignment.

I think I should start over. What I am doing is evident … mmmm, yes … very evident. Sucking cock. Sorry … this is all so new to me. This eagerness to please a man, wanting to demonstrate and prove that new desire and eagerness that has sprung from me. What needs to be explained is HOW I ended up naked, on my knees, sucking the CEO’s cock in his office … in the middle of the afternoon. There are parts of the ‘how’ that are a fuzzy in my mind, but I need to go back a few weeks.

* * * *

“India?” Gerald has been offer a wonderful opportunity. That’s the way he puts it to me, a wonderful opportunity and honor. The company, Trinity Enterprises, is opening a new state of the art facility in India to serve an exploding market in that general region of the world. From that new location they will be able to tap into new markets there and into Eastern Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. But the most exciting part, for him, is that the company came to him to establish the ‘Trinity Way’. He’s more excited than I think I had ever seen him. He says he has been in meetings for several weeks and it is really a marvelous opportunity for him. I look at him dumbfounded but still not challenging, “Weeks? This is the first you’ve mentioned it.”

He touches my hand as we sit across from each other at the kitchen table. “I know. I’m sorry. They thought it best, though. They wanted us to understand everything about what was happening. Honey, this is like a dream for me. Now I know the company really respects what I do. I’m not just a cog in the machine. I’m an important part of what happens.”

I can’t help but wonder, though. India? We’ll be separated by half the globe. Who am I to question, though. It’s obvious Gerald is responding to the company the way he does … blind faith and obedience. That’s also my impulse to respond to Gerald’s announcement. They say good relationships often have a catalyst of opposites. One can tone down the other or one can ignite the other; when one can be prone to just accept something, the other might question it; or, when one is content with status-quo, the other might stimulate discovery and exploration. Gerald and I are two peas in the pod, though. We have complacently muddled through life complying with the company, our parents, our friends, and society norms in general. But … India is so far …

I’m almost too afraid to ask the question that is nagging at me, but I do. “For how long?”

“A couple years probably.”

My mouth drops and my tongue and lips are forming a response to the casual way he drops ‘a couple years’. But nothing comes out. I close my mouth to shut off anything negative. I can see it in his face. His eyes are sparkling. What strikes me is this might be the most excited I have EVER seen him. EVER.

Then, his eyes shift back to me from wherever they had been looking. Probably India. “Don’t worry, though, honey. The company is going to take care of you while I am gone. They have plans. I’ve sat down with them and they have plans. They have these tests or interviews or surveys or something. Anyway, they’ll be finding out what you need or want to help you be active, cared for, involved with others. They’ll take care of the house expenses, everything. Plus, I’ll be getting a huge bonus and increased compensation.” His focus on me becomes sincere, “They are doing this just for you, honey. The other guys going are single, but they are setting up this support just for you.”

I’m not one to question, but … couldn’t the company have found just one more single guy? I see Gerald’s excitement, though. His being excited, happy, is all I need, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

* * * *

We’re sitting in the lobby of the Trinity Enterprises Corporate Building. Even Gerald has never been here before. The main plant, the first Trinity plant, is located 25 miles away where it is still surrounded by farm fields. The corporate offices were moved out of that facility years ago as the corporation grew and went international. They needed offices that would show better to customers and more convenient to the airport. The building is impressive. Made of glass and steel it rises 5 stories in an office park dominated by Trinity with a line of flag poles along both sides of the parking lot walkway with a flag of each state and country with a Trinity plant or office. At the front door to the building are three flag poles: the center and tallest flies the USA flag; the one on the right flies the Trinity Enterprise symbol; and, the last one flies the flag of visiting dignitary. As we entered, that flag was India’s. Not that anybody from India was visiting but to show respect for the sacrifice of the men going to India.

I am the only woman besides the receptionist behind her shiny curved counter in the center of the lobby. The lobby rises 3 stories with glass on the outside and 2 balconies overlooking us. A stairway winds up one side and a bank of elevators are behind the receptionist. Luggage is jammed in the lobby. If there isn’t someone standing, the floor seems occupied by luggage. Each man is allowed three large cases. We just heard from the Vice President of International Operations who is here from his European office to thank and send off the men. A large bus pulls up to the front entry. I hug Gerald. This seems to have happened so fast, but I know it has been several weeks for Gerald. I follow the men outside and watch as Gerald climbs the steps of the bus. When he turns, I am waving with a smile that is happier than I really feel. I blow him a kiss and he returns it.

I stand outside at the building entrance watching the bus turn out of the parking lot, then turn again at the intersection before it disappears behind the other buildings. I suddenly sense how quiet it is. I am standing outside by myself. The executives and managers who were in attendance to see off this group of men quickly returned to their offices and other matters. For them, this part of their day is done and they will turn their attention to the next thing on their agendas.

Then, I hear, “Mrs. Samson?” I turn to the voice behind me. Standing just outside the doors is a woman about my age, maybe 35 years old, a bit overweight for her 5’6” frame. Her auburn hair is stylishly cut to her shoulders. She is smartly dressed in a professional charcoal colored dress, white blouse, and fitted jacket. She is wearing modest height heels like mine. She steps forward with her right hand extended. “Hi, Mrs. Samson. My name is Sarah Thomas. I am the Executive Assistant. Mr. Baldwin was hoping to have a word with you.”

I look at her dumbfounded. “Mr. Baldwin … the CEO, Mr. Baldwin?” The woman, Sarah Thomas, smiles and nods, amused by my response. I understand her bemusement. She might be used to dealing with the CEO but I am not. Gerald hasn’t ever met him.

She places her hand lightly on my elbow and guides me back to the entrance door. “Yes, that Mr. Baldwin.” She hands me a Guest Badge that I see is marked “Fifth Floor/Executive” boldly on it. She explains that everyone must have a security badge to leave the lobby area. I then see her remove a badge attached to her waist band of her skirt, pass it before a dark screen at the elevator that flashes green. Inside the elevator she passes it over another dark screen and presses the ‘5’ button. She explains that the 5th floor is restricted to Legal and the Executive Offices. On the 5th floor, she turns right and I follow but I also glance to the left where I see a sign indicating the Legal group on glass doors and cubicles of people inside. I turn my attention to the right in time to see Sarah Thomas again passing her badge before another dark screen that flashes green at the tall, imposing, dark mahogany doors. From the outside, there is no glass exposing what is inside.

She holds the massive floor-to-ceiling door open for me. Unfamiliar with large corporate offices in general and senior executive offices in particular, I am overwhelmed by the opulence of what is opened to me. To the right is an elegant sitting area with a dark leather sofa and two chairs around a mahogany and glass coffee table. Down the right side are doorways to spacious offices. At the end is glass enclosed conference room with a large table and many chairs. On the left side is an open door to what appears to be a small office (perhaps for visitors to use) and two more doorways matching those on the right. In the center is a tasteful cubicle matching the rest of the area with mahogany and glass walls. There are no name plates on the cubicle or the office doors. Clearly, if you are in this part of the building, you are escorted and you know who you are meeting. This is not an area where someone would be wondering around to find who they are looking for.

She leads me to the back office on the left side. A distinguished man in the office we pass looks up and smiles warmly. Sarah raps on the door frame of the next office. The man inside behind a massive, dark wood desk rises and a smile forms immediately on his face. His smile doesn’t look fake or forced, but warm and inviting. Sarah introduces us to each other. The man, Mr. Baldwin, the CEO, the top man of all this, takes my hand in shaking it but holds it warmly between his two. He moves his hands to lightly touch my elbow while the other extends toward a sitting area at the back of his office opposite his desk to another leather couch in front of another wood and glass coffee table flanked by leather chairs.

As I sit on one end of the sofa, he sits on the other. Both of us are turned slightly toward each other. Sarah takes a chair. There is something about this man that makes an immediate impact on me. I have never been in the presence of someone with this much power and control of so much and I should probably be intimidated, if not scared, but there is something else about him that has me at ease, as if I feel his power and presence is something I can rely on, something I can trust. It is a strange feeling when having just met him, especially when it was his people who sent Gerald half way around the world away from me. It is such a strange feeling, in fact, that I am momentarily unaware of what he has been saying until I snap to.

“… the reason you are very important to us for the sacrifice you and Gerald are giving for the company. So, as I said, we intend to do what we can to not only take good care of Gerald while he is there for the company and reward his efforts but we intend to take good care of you, too. As we understand it, you and Gerald have been together since school, Gerald has dedicated himself to his work and rarely even taken vacations away. This separation could be very difficult for you being left behind alone. Gerald will have his work and the other men around him. He will be exposed to a new culture and people with opportunity to witness, explore, and sample. You … well, you are left with your normal, routine, everyday life. That’s where we think we can help you.”

I hadn’t realized until he glances again at Sarah that he had again been holding my hand, the thumb of his hand lightly caressing the top. It is then that he lightly squeezes my hand and gives me another of those disarmingly sincere smiles. He rises and moves to his desk where he picks up a manila folder.

My eyes shift from this impressive man, though, when Sarah begins talking. “We don’t want to leave you behind in the process, Karen. We believe there are many factors that can play into how well our people perform and one of them is a feeling that while they are doing their jobs that their home is secure. Providing good salaries and benefits goes a long way to providing that sense normally. In this case, however, we think more can be provided. Your husband is the only married man on the team.”

Mr. Baldwin adds as he sit back down on the sofa, “But we really wanted to have him on the team.”

Sarah nods. “So we explained to him our interest in working with you.”

I smile. I remember Gerald mentioning something about that and I offer that to them. Sarah smiles and nods.

“I’m glad he mentioned that to you. In that effort, we suggested a personality/interest type test to assist us, which he agreed to taking. It was very insightful. We knew the kind of man he was in his job and it confirmed what we believed and also gave us insights into his relationship with you and the home.” She glanced at Mr. Baldwin who I noticed giving a nod. “So, we asked for his permission to give one to you.” I shrugged. If Gerald took it and thought it okay, why not? She smiled. “Actually, we already gave it to you.” I looked startled. I shook my head. I was never giving anything like that. “He gave us permission to put the link in front of you through an email. There are a lot of them out there and they are fun to see what kind of a****l you might be, etc.” I nod. “Do you remember one that took you through many pages and questions and went into a lot of detail?”

My mouth opened and my eyes dropped to the floor. I do remember. The questions led me down a path where I became increasingly open and honest about myself. I was curious what it might conclude. The questions were intriguing. Those little surveys on Facebook are fun when they end up comparing you to some famous person of history. This was different, though. It was much longer. The general questions it started with soon had me opening up more and more with the question delving into how I react to situations, what I enjoyed, what brought me pleasure and how supportive and attentive to my needs my partner was. As I sat there remembering, I became flushed and warm. I had been stunned by the analysis of the results: a basic personality intrigued by new experiences; a strong desire for physical pleasure; a strongly compliant personality; and, possible deep frustration due to a similarly compliant partner unable to help with her needs. They have seen that?

“Mrs. Samson? Karen?”

I was staring at the coffee table top. It was Mr. Baldwin’s voice. My eyes shifted from the table to his fingers lightly, reassuringly stroking my bare forearm with my hands clutched together in my lap. I didn’t remove his hand or move my arm away. Without much consideration of the fingers, I watched them trace along my forearm to the crease of my elbow as they moved up along my bicep and back down to my forearm. It felt so delicate, comforting, and attentive.

I look up into his face. I blush deeply when I realize I have missed something while lost in my thoughts. “I’m … I’m sorry, sir. What?”

He smiled and gave me a little hug. I felt my body relaxing into him. He was so confident and self-assured. But it was only the briefest of moments. “There is nothing to be sorry about. This must be a difficult time and we understand that and we want to help. We know we can help.” He touched my chin with his fingertips and lifted my face, my eyes becoming lost in his. His eyes were a bright blue, intense blue eyes that seemed to draw me into them. I blushed to a deep level as I felt the reaction of his touch, his proximity, and his eyes. “Sarah is going to help you. It’s the least we can do for all you are sacrificing for the company. You are suddenly going to be alone, unsupported, emotionally adrift. We think we can help you find some purpose, some structure, and we can provide some guidance, direction, and control for you.” I suddenly realized how strong my smile had become as he offered this to me. His fingers again stroking my forearm but now moving to my wrist and hand in my lap, one of his fingertips grazing my thigh, innocently, it felt. “Would you like that? Will you let us help you? Would you like some structure in your life? Would it help to have some direction and control given to you? This is a time when you could be benefited by a transitional shift with the right assistance and direction.”

I found I was sitting straighter. I wasn’t leaning back on the sofa. My back was straight. His touch, his eyes, his voice seemed to give me strength. A time of transition. Someone to guide me, direct me, put some control into my life? Did I want that? That was why that online survey identified my frustration … I’ve never had that. I smile shyly at him, this strong, confident man who wanted to help.

“Yes, sir … I do want that.”

He smiled. His eyes probed into mine. I had no idea what was in that probing look but I felt different, released somehow. Then it broke. He shifted his gaze and body. He was no longer in contact with me. His thigh that had been touching mine, his fingers on my arm, they were gone and it felt like a void.

Sarah took over, again. With her voice, my attention shifted to her and Mr. Baldwin stood to move behind Sarah. His presence behind her reinforced everything she said. It was as if some of his authority and power (or something) was transferred to her. This was Wednesday and she asked if I could be back at 10:00 Friday morning to begin the process. I eagerly said I would be here. She said she was hopeful about what they could provide but that initial session would uncover the next steps.

* * * *

“How do you think it went?” Sarah Thomas had returned from escorting me out of the building and returned to her boss’s office doorway. She entered and took a visitor’s chair in front of his desk. “Is this going to work? Maybe more to the point, should I feel bad about setting this in motion?”

“Your own words: success comes from taking opportunities provided.” He looked at her. That wasn’t really an answer. It might only be an excuse for another action in a long line of aggressive actions taken to achieve success and wealth. She recognized the look and formed a better response. Though a much glorified secretary, her long association with him had allowed her a relative amount of wealth and security. “The protocol we’re using isn’t a hypnosis process to make her quack like a duck. This isn’t planting a seed in her mind. It's more that we’re bringing her dormant, unrealized self to her consciousness and removing some of the barriers and inhibitions that family and society have put in place to block what is already who she is but keeps her from accepting it.” She met his eyes and saw the man he was: dominant, controlling, confident. She also saw what she was very aware of: he was eagerly onboard with what was planned for Karen Samson but it fell to Sarah to implement it. Sarah Thomas definitely was not Karen Samson. Sarah was strong in her own way, just never educated enough to go much further in the business world. Attaching herself to James Baldwin was a gamble but it proved effective. Along the way, she too found herself in what could have been sexual harassment situations with him but enduring them had solidified her position with him. Being married, she eventually had to confess to her husband what had happened. Initially hurt, they got past it. Being a mid-level manager at a separate, less successful company, the money and benefits Sarah brought to the marriage seemed to make up for it. She sometimes wondered if the weight she gained, now a bit overweight, was an u*********s effort at dissuading any advances. All that was behind her and had been for a while.

“As far as the question of will this work … I am sure you felt her response to you because I could certainly see it.”

He nodded. Her response had been significant. He half felt he could have pushed the issue right there but then there would be guilt and remorse for her later. This would be better. “So, you’ll begin the protocol on Friday?”

Sarah smiled. After working so closely with him for these years, she could read him. He was fighting the impulse to jump ahead. He understood the need to follow process even if he was tempted to demand faster results. They had a process prepared, what was called ‘the protocol’ by the consultant they had hired after seeing Karen’s survey results.

“Yes. Friday will be the beginning. Then, I am sure she will be agreeable to continuing with sessions on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of the next two weeks.” She reviewed the process … again. Friday morning would be a similar survey but it would dig a little deeper, probe more detail. While she would be occupying her with lunch, the results would be compiled and salient responses programmed as subliminal reinforcing messages and suggestions hidden in ambient music that will be provided to Karen with special noise-cancelling headphones. She’ll be innocently encouraged to use the headphones at home when not otherwise distracted to help her avoid periods that might turn lonely. Subsequent visits will continue the process. She may not understand why the surveys continue but she won’t object. The music will be replaced with new messages each time and each time she will be presented with a new example of the company’s concern for her: a lawn service to take mowing and treatments from her concern; a gym membership and introductory personal training sessions; moving to an allowance for basics to alleviate money concerns. These awards will also mask the feeling of euphoria and eagerness to please. Because they are already elements of her being that have been buried and dormant, unrealized by her equally compliant husband, she’ll likely only feel a sense of actualization and fulfillment.

Patience. All he needed was patience.

* * * *

I was tentative about returning to the Trinity building Friday morning. What was it they could really do for me? I had spent a lot of time remembering that survey I had completed online. The survey they knew about. I had expressed loneliness in my answers. Answers I had given not after Gerald had left but before, well before. Not having Gerald around now might compound that feeling of loneliness but it wasn’t the real source. The real source was us. Gerald and me. The types of people we were and what that made us when combined. How do you feel loneliness when you are with someone? I had expressed frustration, too. Maybe more frustration than loneliness. In a way, I decided, the frustration was an outcome of the loneliness. I felt alone because I didn’t feel supported, encouraged, challenged, or desired. Could I really blame it all on Gerald? I probably shouldn’t. As it turned out, he wasn’t much different than me in personality but he got his direction, support, and encouragement at work. It wasn’t within him to give it to me, though. It wasn’t within him to step outside of himself for at least moments to give me new experiences, to ASK me what I wanted.

So, how could Trinity Enterprises possibly give me something my husband couldn’t?

I had committed to Sarah, though. And to Mr. Baldwin. Yes, Mr. Baldwin. What a powerful, strong man. I wondered if I would see him, again.

I passed through the main entrance doors and … froze in place, the revolving door almost hitting me as it continued to turn. There standing by the reception desk was Sarah Thomas. She had a Visitor security badge ready for me and a big, welcoming smile on her face. In thinking about that survey, my issues were far more than being without Gerald but maybe, just maybe, their concern, their caring, might indeed make some difference.

Sarah settled me in the extra office of the Executive Suite. I noticed Mr. Baldwin’s office door was closed. A man like him must have important meetings and phone calls constantly. She set me up at a laptop computer at the desk. She turned the light low and provided a pitcher of ice water and a glass. A real glass-glass. It might have been crystal for all I knew. It was 10:15.

About 10 minutes into the questions, I saw the question I had been thinking about myself.

‘Do you think you have a tendency to want someone to make decisions for you?’

Yes, I answered.

Then, ‘Would you be embarrassed to admit to others or yourself that you desire someone to make decisions for you?’

My finger hung over the key that would mark ‘yes’. Unless I am honest in my answers, I thought to myself, all of this could be a waste of time. I pressed the key … Yes.

‘Do you feel you lack the confidence to make decisions for yourself and others?’

Yes.

‘Have you wished you had someone strong and supportive to help you with choices and options?’

Yes. God knows Gerald couldn’t.

‘Have you wished you had a strong man to direct and guide you?’

Yes. Is it getting hot in here or …?

It went on like that. Once it started with my insecurity, my lack of confidence, my need for strength and direction in my life, it continued. Slowly, it showed me the logic, the reality of my condition in life, how I have always lived and I began seeing where my strong feelings of loneliness came from and the frustration I came to know but never understood. Never understood until now.

A knock on the door and Sarah cracked the door open and peeked in. I smiled up at her. She held a box in her hand. She called them noise cancelling headphones. She said they were programmed with soothing ambient music. Very restful. Calming. She wanted me to spend 10 minutes in quiet so the survey didn’t become too stressful. Stressful answers, she said, would be counterproductive.

As I left, Sarah said she would be in touch. I wasn’t expecting it to be the next day on Saturday. She called Saturday afternoon apologizing if she was intruding. Heaven, no, I told her honestly. She explained that her husband was playing golf and she was reviewing the file. I have a file apparently. She had often mentioned how seriously Mr. Baldwin considered helping me. I found myself smiling while talking to her. She said she was exciting about the survey results and was wondering if I was using the headphones. I assured her I was and that I did, indeed, find it very soothing and relaxing. I told her I felt the relaxation deep down and that was odd but nice. She asked me to come in Monday at the same time and to not forget the headphones. I didn’t even have to think about it. I assured her I would be there. I thanked her profusely.

Then, she said something that clutched my heart, emotions rising within me. “Thank you, Karen, because I enjoy being with you, too. But, really, this is Mr. Baldwin who is driving this.”

Mr. Baldwin. Of course. Such a strong and decisive man, in control and committed. I feel so fortunate to have a man like that on my side. The memory of how Gerald’s inability to give me that flashed through me but was quickly overridden the image of Mr. Baldwin sitting next to me on the sofa, his fingers lightly touching my arm, his voice calm but also firm and commanding, his attention fully on me, caring and confident. After the phone call, I put the headphones back on.

Monday was similar. The same small office, the same laptop, the same process of questions (always answering with YES), and the same breaks with the headphones with some new music. This was repeated Wednesday and Friday. The same happened the following week. Each day I was happy to go in to meet with Sarah but each day I went in I hoped to see Mr. Baldwin, again. I was disappointed to hear that he was to be out of town on business on the second week. But, each day I went in turned from being ‘happy’ to go in to ‘excited’. Each session motivated me and clarified who I was and what I needed to be happy and content, to feel fulfilled and whole. Each session provided me with new music for the headphones that seemed to ease my feeling deeper and deeper into my psyche and self-awareness.

The survey questions evolved over the sessions. They delved deeper and deeper into my psyche, my latent needs, and my desire to be led and to please.

‘Have you always desired a strong man who could provide for you, lead you, guide you, and make decisions for you?’

YES

‘Have you lacked the confidence to accept the attention of such men?’

YES

‘If you were with such a man who would take care of your needs, guide you in new things, help you experience new things, would you want to please him and do everything you can to show your appreciation?’

YES. Oh, God, yes.

The question eventually led to the decisive impression. The impression that triggered everything for me.

‘A person who lacks the confidence to make decisions and wants someone strong to guide them, lead them, decide actions for them in their life is called submissive. Do you think you are a submissive who has always yearned for a strong man to guide you?’

I sat back and stared at the question. I have been so conflicted over my feelings, so embarrassed by the wish that a decision would be made, by someone, anyone, throughout my life. This was why. Why hadn’t I seen this before? Because I have been in a relationship where there were two us. The source of my loneliness. The source of my frustration. My finger hit the key so hard, I flinched. YES!

The questions continued to progress, evolve, seeming to lead me deeper in self-awareness. A new awareness that might have been shocking if it didn’t seem so obvious in reflection. New days in the small office in front of the laptop intermixed with time with the headphones that turned into major periods of time with them at home (it was so calming, so affirming in a strange way) led me deeper into myself.

‘Since you are submissive by nature, do you find yourself attracted to the idea of a strong man to lead you?’

YES.

‘Since you are submissive by nature and yearn for a strong man to lead and control you, do you desire to obey him in whatever way he wants?’

YES. Oh, God, yes, please.

‘A submissive finds serving a strong man to be a very pleasurable experience. Do you desire the pleasurable experience of serving and pleasing such a man?’

YES.

On and on. Each session. Each new time with the headphones. I eagerly awaited each new session in the small office, each new time in the Executive Suite hoping for a glimpse of Mr. Baldwin who I knew to be such a strong and controlling man, and each new time with the headphones that seemed to bring its own comforting thrill.

‘Since you desire to serve and please such a man, pleasing him would involve dressing accordingly. Such men would be pleased by dressing sexy, wearing tight, revealing clothes, high heels, and stockings, don’t you think?’

YES. I pressed my thighs together.

‘Wearing sexy, revealing clothes is exciting for you because the man is pleased and you want to please the man, don’t you?’

YES.

‘In fact, when such a man looks at you with arousal and compliments you, even crudely, it arouses you. The more attention you can entice the more aroused you would become, wouldn’t you?’

YES. I am sure I would.

It was near the end of the session on the Wednesday of the second week. If, at the beginning, I had been told these sessions would stretch into two weeks, I wouldn’t have believed or understood it. Now … now, each session is like another epiphany for me. I am no longer merely eager for the sessions. I am excited, aroused even. When I am in the Executive Suite of the building, I sometimes see other men, the Executive Vice Presidents, but it is Mr. Baldwin I most want to see, again. But I don’t. He has been traveling. Then, Sarah pops into the small office. Normally, she knocks and enters quietly. This time she pops in. I can see she is excited. Excited for me? Mr. Baldwin has returned and would like a moment of my time, if possible. If possible? Sarah doesn’t see, but I squeeze my thighs together. I am excited. My body is excited. She suggests I spend some minutes with the headphones to clear my mind from the time with the laptop questions. I nod. She will come back shortly. I put the headphones on and a thought comes to me. I stand and move to the picture hanging in the room. It’s a dark picture and I can see my reflection and when I look I fuss.

I can’t believe how plainly I am dressed. A White button-up blouse and charcoal slacks. Why didn’t I wear a skirt? Skirts are more attractive. Men like to see women’s legs. Short skirts are even better. I don’t have many short skirts. Or revealing tops. I can get some, though. But not now. Damn, he’ll probably think I am a nun dressed like this.

The soft, soothing music is playing into my ears. Unaware, though, the subliminal messages are fed directly into my brain. Staring at myself, my reflection. What do I do? I’ve waited for this moment. I watch as my fingers undo the top three buttons of my blouse. I turn slightly and the edges of my white lace bra become visible. Better. I take the band out of my pony-tail and fluff my long, blond hair. I smile. Even better. I reprimand my reflection, remember a skirt next time.

I look closer at myself. Not bad, girl. For a 39 year old married woman, all 5’5” and 110 pounds. Not bad, at all. I glance down at my opened blouse and the amble cleavage showing. Yes, and those 34E’s aren’t bad, either. Men will love those and it will be so exciting when I don’t hide them.

Sarah retrieves me and takes me to Mr. Baldwin’s door. She knocks on the door jamb (she’s done that before) and he stands as he sees us enter. My face has a smile that I couldn’t fake. He stops several feet away and looks at me. Not just my face. His eyes stop at my open blouse before traveling down my body. A smile grows on his face. I’m blushing. I can feel a wave of warmth spreading through my body and centering finally in my pussy.

“My … you look stunning Mrs. … may I call you Karen?” I nod enthusiastically. I also blush deeper. “You do look stunning.” I try to object … I’m dressed too comfortably for the computer time … “Karen …” With a couple steps, he closes the distance between us. His arms go out and instinctively I step into his arms. He hugs me. “Karen, you do look stunning.” He steps back and returns to his desk. He indicates with a hand for me to take a chair in front of his desk. I wonder how many powerful men in their own right have sat in this same chair to discuss and negotiate projects and agreements.

He is still smiling. He is still also gazing at my body, especially my breasts since they are the only parts of me partially exposed to his gaze. I can feel my pussy getting wetter. He likes what he sees. I am pleasing to him. No wonder I am excited.

“You look like you are adjusting to your new situation well, Karen. Am I right?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Baldwin. Very well, in fact.”

“The time you have spent under Sarah’s direction has been beneficial, then?”

“Yes, sir. It’s hard to explain, really, but I feel more alive and energized than I think I ever have.”

He is looking at me intently. I am glad my slacks are dark and heavy material. I want to giggle at the thought, but it would be terrible if my wetness might seep through. Another good reason to wear a dress or skirt?

He smiles at me as if he could tell what I was thinking and I blush profusely … again. “Would you mind standing up, Karen?”

“Of course, sir.” I literally popped up out of the chair. “Turn around, please.” I did as he asked. He was inspecting me. He was blatantly inspecting me! “Nice, Karen. You have a nice ass. I bet you’ve been told that a lot, though. I’m sorry, dear, do you mind that I said that?”

I was flushed with more warmth flooding my body. I stammer out my reply, “Thank you … no … I mean.”

He chuckles, “Take a breath, Karen.”

“Yes, sir … sorry, sir. I meant … thank you for the … ummm … compliment, sir. No, I haven’t heard that much before.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, sir … I haven’t really … well … I haven’t really …”

“You haven’t been exposed to men like me much before?”

“I guess not, sir. But … your question … no … no I don’t mind. In fact, it makes me feel good that you like me, that I please you. It makes me feel good. I don’t know … am I making sense, sir?”

He smiles. “Yes, it does, dear. You are doing very well in such a short time, too. I see on the schedule that Friday is your last session.” I nod and my face must have shown something I didn’t intend. “Does that make you sad?” I started to offer something when he held up his hand. I immediately stop and look at him. “I would like to take you to lunch after your session. Would that be possible?”

“Yes, sir! Thank you!”

“And, Karen … you are correct, of course.” I looked at him puzzled. “A dress would be much more attractive. A short dress, I think. With your breasts in a low-cut top would be … amazing. That would be very pleasing.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

I was almost skipping as I came out of his office to Sarah’s desk. “Well,” she said with a big smile, “don’t you look happy.”

“Very … excited, too. He’s taking me to lunch on Friday.”

She smiles. Maybe it was leering. “Excited … yes, I can see that.” I gave her a puzzled look. “Your nipples, Karen.” I looked down. Even through the blouse and bra my erect nipples were poking out for attention. She handed me my headphones, commenting on new music added to it and reminding me to continue using them. I waved as I left.

* * * *

Friday’s session was a whole lot deeper. I still didn’t flinch. My answers continued to be enthusiastically, YES. I didn’t even notice that references to generic men or man were replaced with Mr. Baldwin.

‘The idea of serving Mr. Baldwin arouses you.’

YES. I was aroused just answering the question.

‘Serving Mr. Baldwin is so arousing for you that being around him makes you horny.’

YES. I rubbed my thighs together. My breathing came heavier and jagged. My mind flashed to the lunch coming up.

‘You are submissive to Mr. Baldwin and you want to please him so much you are horny all the time and can’t stop thinking about sex with him.’

YES.

‘In the box below, complete the sentence by typing: I am submissive to ….’

I AM SUBMISSIVE TO MR. BALDWIN AND I WANT TO PLEASE HIM SO MUCH I AM HORNY AND CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT SEX WITH HIM.

‘Being submissive to Mr. Baldwin makes you horny and you think about sex around him and you know that having sex with him will please him and you want to please Mr. Baldwin.’

YES. Fuck, yes!

‘As Mr. Baldwin’s submissive, you want to suck his cock.’

YES.

‘As Mr. Baldwin’s submissive, you want to fuck him.’

YES.

‘As Mr. Baldwin’s submissive, you’ll obey his wishes even if he shares you.’

Oh, God. My left hand clutched my breast through my clothes as my right finger pressed on the key. YES. I was gasping for breath. My new panties were soaked with my juices.

‘Is a woman who enjoys sex, wants sex, will use sex to please men, and who dresses sexy to please me called a slut?’

Without thinking, my left hand found its way to my breast by itself. I squeezed it and gasped. YES.

‘As Mr. Baldwin’s submissive, you want to please him by sucking his cock, fucking him, and dressing provocatively, isn’t that right?’

YES.

‘As Mr. Baldwin’s submissive, you will please him by doing the same for other men, if he wishes?’

YES.

‘Are you, then, Mr. Baldwin’s submissive slut?’

I might have been surprised that my hand had moved from my breast to between my legs, stroking my pussy through the wet material of my panties, but my mind was focused, too focused, on the understanding and acceptance of who and what I truly was. YES.

‘Although you find nothing wrong with being Mr. Baldwin’s submissive and pleasing him in any manner he might request, it will not be mentioned to anyone except as permitted by Mr. Baldwin.’

YES.

After that last answer, there was a knock on the door. Sarah stood in the doorway with a lusty smile on her face. I was slow in removing my hand from between my legs, which was where her eyes were focused. I blushed and opened my mouth to stammer out a feeble excuse, but she stopped me. She said she understood. She said she has felt the same way about him. I wondered what that meant. She wasn’t like me. She was strong and decisive. But before I could ask, she handed me the headphones and suggested resting for a few moments before lunch. I put the headphones on, leaned my head back and sighed as one hand went to my breast and the other returned to my short skirt and found my wet panty crotch. The music went to work like I was now used to it doing. It had the effect of calming my mind while somehow causing my body and somewhere deep in my mind to vibrate with building energy … energy that would need to be released. Not that I understood any of that, though.

* * * *

I sat across from Mr. Baldwin in a very expensive restaurant some miles from his office. The lighting was subdued and the booth we shared felt semi-private. By the time our meals were presented to us, the restaurant was already less crowded as we were at the tail end of the normal lunch rush. He had been pulling information from me and offering some of his own. He was ten years older than me at 49. I could see he was about 5’10” with a trim, almost athletic body. His hair was stylishly cut and still brown. He seemed amazingly open and I soaked up every word, thrilled that he was trusting me. He offered that he was in his second marriage, now to a woman 4 years younger than me at 35. He held my eyes for a moment and I found I was holding my breath in anticipation of something he was about to share.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” I blushed. “We’ve been married now 4 years. She is my match. She is adventurous and open-minded. I think you’ll like her.”

Did he just ….? But before I could be more diverted by that thought …

“I like the way you’re dressed today, Karen. It is very attractive, very sexy. I am pleased. You are a sexy woman, Karen. Sexy and erotic. Enticing and tempting. Did you dress this way for me?” I nod my head and blush. I was blushing a lot these days. “I like it, Karen. I like it very much. It pleases me.” That warm feeling floods through my body, again. “I like the way that blouse shows your wonderful cleavage. How big are your breasts, dear?”

Shyly, I drop my eyes as I mumble a response. He instructs me to look up and respond proudly. “34E, sir.” I glance down at myself. He was looking, too. This blouse is form-fitting and the top button is barely above the line of my nipples. It is very revealing. I was surprised I bought it after trying it on in the dressing room of the store. I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to actually wear it. When I walked into the Executive Suite of the offices and saw Sarah’s eyes almost pop out, I knew it was right. I knew Mr. Baldwin would be pleased. And, wasn’t that what mattered? Pleasing Mr. Baldwin?

“Before the waiter returns with the check, undo another button. He provided good service, I think. Show your appreciation.”

I smile. The feeling inside, though, was wicked. That’s the way I felt as my fingers worked the button loose and the front of my lace bra came into view. I picked up my water glass and took a sip, my eyes on Mr. Baldwin as the waiter came to the table and hesitates before placing the leather folder on the table.

Mr. Baldwin wouldn’t let me rebutton before leaving. In fact, I was to leave my blouse like it was. In the car, he asked me how it felt. Wicked, I said. He chuckled, maybe another time it will be two buttons. I shiver. That would be so very wicked … and exciting.

I walk a half step behind and to the side of him. Don’t ask me why. It just happened. I couldn’t explain it any better than I could explain a lot of what has been happening to me or the way I have been feeling lately. I sense changes in myself, how I felt, how I was acting, and certainly how I was dressing. Not understanding, not seeming to be able to quantify it, though, made it easy to push away and focus instead on the now. That was never more evident than when we enter the Executive Suite back at the offices and I follow Mr. Baldwin to his office past Sarah’s cubicle and desk. She looked up, did a double-take at seeing the undone button and my exposed bra, then slyly gave me a wink and thumbs-up as I passed her. I only smiled.

He held his office door open for me to pass through. To Sarah, he said, “We’re going to be in conference. No interruptions, please.” He closed the door and smiled at me. He told me to stand by the front of his desk. He removed his jacket, hung it on the coat tree in the corner, then took his chair behind his desk. He leaned back and appraised me, again. His desk was nearly empty. A small stack of folders and a closed laptop were neatly arranged to his right. Otherwise, the desk surface was clean.

Tension began to fill my body as I stood in front of him while he looked, appraised, examined me deliberately and blatantly. The tension wasn’t nerves, though. I realized as I stood there under his gaze it was anticipation. Then, it was like the moment in a magnificent musical score when the entire piece comes together.

“Earlier you said you dressed this way just for me.” I nod. To be honest, I wouldn’t have wanted to trust my voice at the moment. “That pleases me, Karen. It pleases me very much. Do you know what else pleases me?” I softly shook my head. “I am pleased that such an attractive, sexy, mature woman desires to please me. I think mature women are especially sexy when they desire themselves to be. Is that you, Karen? Do you desire to please me?”

It gushed out of my mouth without thought or control, “Yes, sir! I desire that very much.”

“I can see that in you, Karen. You exude sexuality. You haven’t always been this way, though, have you? But you’ve come to see what you are, what you want.” I nod. He smiles. “Tell me. Tell me what you are and what you want.”

I actually shivered. That flood of warmth flowed through me, again. I could feel my nipples tingling. I could feel the moisture lubricating my pussy, leaking out between the lips, and soaking into the thin material of my panties. This might be it. The moment. The past couple weeks and the craving I have developed for this possible moment.

“I want to please you, sir. Yes, I dressed for you and I am happy … no excited that you are pleased with it. It excites me to know I can please you.”

He smiled. It wasn’t a happy or innocent smile. It was a lusty smile and that excited me, too. “Good. And what are you?”

I was puzzled. At the moment I was just a woman craving to please him. Then, it crashed in on me. It was up to him, though. All I could do is tell me. “Sir … what I am is now only a desire inside me yearning to be. It will be unfilled, unrealized without your acceptance.” A faint smile formed on his mouth as if he was forcing a reaction down. With only silence, I had to press ahead. The words echoing in my head and I verbalized the words to him. “I know I am submissive, Mr. Baldwin. And … and … I … I want … I would be your submissive … if you would have me. Mr. Baldwin, the idea of serving you … it arouses me, it makes me constantly horny. I think about being your submissive and … I can’t stop thinking about sex.” He sat there watching me, studying my face, watching my chest rise and fall as my breathing increased wildly. That smile remaining on his face and maybe growing a bit as he studied me. “That’s what I am, sir. Or, will be if …”

“If I have you?” I nod expectantly. “Sex … you only imagine about sex with me or you want sex with me? What is it you would do? What would you be for me, Karen?”

“I imagine it, yes, but I want it, too.”

“Take off you blouse, Karen.” My fingers began undoing the remaining buttons until I had to pull the tails out of my skirt to finish. I slid it off my shoulders and dropped it on the chair. I stood before him, a bit anxious and nervous, feeling something not being normal but exciting and real at the same time. “What exactly is it you want for sex with me?”

“I … I … want to suck your cock, sir.” He told me to drop my skirt. I was now standing in my new lace bra, panties, thigh-high stockings, and heels. Then, he asked what else. “I want to fuck you, sir. I want to suck you and fuck you to serve and please you.” He motioned to my bra and I dropped it, revealing my 34E breasts naked for his view. I thought I might orgasm right then. He didn’t have to ask. “I want to suck and fuck and obey all your wishes and desires, sir.”

He pointed to my panties. I took a breath. That feeling that something was not normal but was too exciting to avoid. I pushed my panties down my thighs and stepped out of them. Now standing naked in his office without a concern.

“You’re shaved. Have you always shaved, Karen?” I looked down my body. God, I was naked and it was so exciting! I shook my head. “You did it for me? In anticipation of what might happen?” I nod and held his eyes, though his eyes moved from mine to my breasts to my shaved pussy. He opened two fingers and I knew. I separated my legs. He now had a better view. I blushed with my blatant display. “I am pleased. I am very pleased. You dressed for me. You undressed for me. You offered yourself to me. You shaved for me. I am pleased, Karen.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Karen, tell me something … a woman who would confess such things to a man she barely knows, who dresses sexy for him, who stands naked in his office, who wishes to have sex with him … is there a word for such a woman?”

“A slut, sir. I am that woman, I am your submissive slut.”

“We’ll see …” He turned his desk chair sideways.

I stepped to him around the side of the desk. I sank to my knees in front of him, worked his belt and slacks open. I pulled the waist down over his hips to expose his already hard cock. I might not have had a lot of sexual experience with Gerald and certainly not adventurous sex, but I found myself typing in internet searches while listening to the headphones. What I physically might lack I had gained visual study. I licked his cock from the base to the head which slipped into my lips and mouth. I sucked the head before kissing and licking down the shaft, again. The fingers of one hand began massaging his balls as I suck and stroke his cock. I push my mouth down as far as I could without gagging, managing to take the head to the entrance to my throat. Up and down my mouth worked. I lost myself in the act. I felt his cock pulse and I strain my eyes up to look at him. I knew I should take him in my mouth and swallow and I was prepared to even though I never had before but he suddenly stood, his cock pulling from my mouth.

He grasps me, turns me to his desk and presses me forward, my breasts and stomach press onto the highly polished surface. I open my legs wide and gasp as I feel him take my hips in his hands and his cock poking at my pussy. My breath catches in my throat as I feel his cock sliding along my wet pussy lips, probing the wet tissue between until it sinks into my hole. Without exhaling, I suck in more air, my lungs full and held as he plunges deeper into my pussy. With one hand on my upper back pressing me onto the desktop, he pulls back a few inches … then plunges fully into me until his hips smack against my ass. It drives all the held air out of my lungs and with it a loud gasping groan. He pulls back and presses forcefully back in. Then over and over. Each thrust becomes a little bit quicker, a little bit more urgent until he is pounding his cock into my pussy.

The sounds in the office attack my ears with confusion. This is a primal act of mating. An alpha taking his mate. I have never been taken like this. It is consuming. It is dominating. It is controlling and powerful. IT IS EVERYTHING.

I orgasm on his cock, pressed against a wood surface. I cry out amid all the other sounds. The grunting from behind me. The gasping and moaning coming from my mouth and his. His flesh smacking against my flesh. We can’t be in his office but I open my eyes and we are … this is happening in his office and that realization causes another peak in my orgasm.

Suddenly, he pulls out of me. Suddenly, I am empty of him and despite the orgasm I feel frustrated by the emptiness. He pulls me back from the desktop and turns me to him. I sink to my knees which turns out to be what he wanted, anyway. He holds his cock to my face, his cock covered in my juice, my cum, my orgasm. I open my mouth wide and he pushes it inside. I close my lips around it. One of my hands grasps my own breast while the other finds my empty, slick, gaping pussy. I continue to fondle myself as he is now fucking my mouth, occasionally driving into my throat but only for a moment. His fingers grasp my head with my hair. He fucks my mouth but it is different, not as powerful or pounding. I feel his cock swell and pulse in my mouth and feel him tense.

“Take it all, my submissive slut. Take it and swallow it. Show me you are mine.”

God, yes! Cum in my mouth. Give me your seed. Cum in any hole, anywhere.

I feel the first spurt and I try to gulp it down but I am surprised by the volume. His need must have been great. Before I can finish gulping there is another spurt and another. He pulls out of my mouth and some cum escapes onto my lips and my chin. I look up at him. He is smiling. A finger pulls the wayward cum up to me lips and I suck it off his finger.

“Well done.”

Looking up at him, kneeling naked at his feet, I smile back.


* * * Chapter 2: THE BALDWINS will follow * * * Thanks for reading.