Eve Langlais: My Secretary, My Mistress

“Oh, daddy. Grant’s a great boss. And he’s smart, too. He knows when he should listen to his secretary. Don’t you, Grant?” she said, turning her baby blue eyes on him and smiling impishly.

“Yes, um… she’s very efficient,” Grant managed to reply.

“Excellent. All right, I’ll leave you two to work. One o’clock for lunch, then Issy?”

"Okay, daddy." Isabelle turned back to her father. “See you then.”

As her father-his boss-left, he shouted over his shoulder, “Bring Grant along too, if you want.”

"Maybe I will." Isabelle went to follow her father out, but turned back to Grant at the last moment. “I’ll be back for my panty check. You be good, now.”

It took Grant a few moments to recover from that statement. Good thing he was competent enough at his job that he could do it without thinking.

Isabelle squirmed in her chair often during the morning, enjoying the feeling of the dildo inside her, even as her panties grew damper and damper. If he father hadn’t invited her to lunch, she would have probably closeted herself in the office with Grant and enjoyed a different kind of meal.

Perhaps she still would.

Quickly catching up on overnight emails and other items, she kept an eye on the clock. A half hour before lunch, she entered Grant’s office and caught him talking on the phone.

He quickly hung up and watched her expectantly.

Locking his door so they wouldn’t be accidentally interrupted, she sauntered over to him and hiked one leg, resting her foot on his desk.

“Time for my panty check,” she told him, enjoying the way his cheeks flushed and his eyes grew bright. Eagerly he lifted her skirt and palmed the crotch of her panties, curling one finger under their edge and inserting it into her to check that the dildo was still in place.

“It’s intact,” he choked out. And remembering her instructions from earlier, he withdrew his hand with a pained look.

She brought her leg back down. “Have you been a good boy?”

Grant nodded.

Isabelle looked at him sharply.

“Yes, mistress,” he said.

“Good. Now, we’re going to lunch with my father,” she said, casually dropping to her knees and unzipping his pants. “I’m going to need you to control yourself and try not to think of the dildo in my pussy. Oh, and one last thing-no coming in your pants.”

Freeing his cock, she dipped her head and took its swollen head into her mouth. He released a strangled moan. She slid her lips up and down the length of his shaft, pleased at its rigid thickness, and sucked him expertly. Her cheeks hollowed as she worked him faster and faster.

He panted and said, “Oh, God. Stop. Please.”

She knew, however, that it was already too late. With a strangled yell, he came in her mouth, his cock pulsing as he found his release and shot a creamy load down her throat.

Swallowing, she let go of his cock and looked up into his horrified face.

“I didn’t mean to,” he stammered. The powerful man had been reduced to putty in her hands. "I'm sorry."

“You’ll be punished for that later,” she promised. “Now, clean yourself up. We have a luncheon, and we don’t want to be late.”

Leaving him, she went to the ladies room to freshen up.

The moment had gone exactly as she had planned, giving her the perfect excuse for punishing him later. Isabelle almost came herself at the thought, her body shuddering and her pussy clenching around the hidden dildo.

This evening, she would brand Grant as hers forever.

Grant couldn’t believe that he’d lost control again. Shooting his load like some inexperienced boy. He deserved any punishment Isabelle meted out. A good solid spanking. His breathing came faster. Maybe she’d tie him up again and sexually torture him before forcing him to please her.

His cock swelled in his pants at the mental image.

Lunch was almost unbearable. Isabelle’s father asked him questions about business deals while Isabelle distracted him. Then her father left the table to take a call, and she dragged his hand under the table to rub her swollen clit, an act that made him harder than a rock. He wondered what she would have done to torment him had they not been seated in a booth with a draping tablecloth.

Back at the office, she came in sporadically and had him check the dildo in her cunt. The last time, she made him bring his face right up to the soaking cloth of her panties and smell her intoxicating, musky scent, which aroused him more than any aphrodisiac.

Grant couldn’t wait for the workday to end. She had him in such a state, he was tempted to risk her heavenly wrath, bend her over his desk, and fuck her until she came around his cock. But would an act like that get him punished or banished?

He couldn’t take the chance, so he put up with the erotic torture, eagerly watching the time. By five o’clock, he was more than ready to go.

Isabelle laughed at him. “Are you so eager to be punished?”

“Anything that pleases you, mistress.”

She let him drive her home instead of taking a cab, and he thanked God he drove an automatic when she pressed his hand to her damp crotch the whole way to her place.

As soon as they walked through the door, Isabelle turned to him. “Strip and go lie on the bed on your back. Do not touch yourself.”

"Yes, mistress." Grant had to control himself so he wouldn’t run, so eager was he for whatever new delight she had in store.

And he only had a moment of fear when, dressed in nothing but a smile, she tied his arms and legs to the four corner of her bed.

Grant was completely at Isabelle's mercy. It was a heady feeling for her. After attaching the last restraint, she straightened and raked her gaze over him.

His muscled body looked anything but tame, yet he’d let her tie him up without protest or a struggle. His cock jutted from his hips like a mast-tall and straight, without a hint of a curve-while his heavy balls rested on the bed ready for play.

Excitement gripped her. She knew what would happen tonight. And poor Grant wouldn’t like it one bit-at least, not at first. But if he let her indulge in her most erotic desire, then he would belong to her forever. He wouldn’t be able to resist. But first she had to make him come, so he would last for what she had planned. He was already close to the edge.

Kneeling between his legs, she pushed her tits together and massaged them, tweaking her nipples into points, then lifted her breasts high so she could flick her own tongue against them. Riveted, Grant watched her. Isabelle leaned forward and slid his swollen shaft between her plump tits, flicking her tongue against the head of his cock when it peeked through.

He liked that a lot, judging by the way he trembled and his breathing grew faster. But Isabelle had already given him a treat today when she’d sucked him off, so this time she needed to make him come via a bit of pain.

“Time for your punishment for losing control today, my pet,” she announced. Pulling away from his shaft, she grasped its tip with two fingers, pinching it, then pulled a small latex flog from the folds of her comforter at the side of the bed.

Grant’s eyes widened, but to his credit he didn't say a word-although his cock did blush a becoming mauve. With a wicked smile, Isabelle applied the flog lightly to his manhood, the smooth snick of it hitting his flesh interspersed with his grunts and moans of pleasure. Faster and faster she whipped him, alternating with strikes on his balls, which grew heavy and tight under her onslaught. Releasing the tip of his rod, she grasped him by the root and applied the flog to its mushroomed head. When it bloomed a becoming dark red, she wrapped her lips around it and gave it a wet suck.