Emily was sitting at the small, neat desk in the corner of her apartment, typing on her laptop. She heard the front door close behind her, but she did not turn, intent on completing this last spreadsheet before logging off for the evening.

“Good evening, sir. I won’t be long,” she said, feeling his hands on her shoulders, gentle at first, then firmer. He bent to kiss the side of her neck, then continued to massage her shoulders.

“Hmm, that feels nice, sir,” she sighed as she tried to type faster. His hands slid down, and skilled fingers undid three or four buttons on her white blouse so it hung open to her stomach. He massaged her breasts over her black lace bra.

“Did I tell you to stop working, Number 6?” He asked, seeing the cursor on the screen heading towards the X in the corner.

“No, Master, sorry, Master,” she answered, in a whisper. She recognised his tone. He never raised his voice, but it took on a different, slightly deeper tone when he wanted to be obeyed; even this slight change made her heart beat a little faster. She concentrated on typing in the correct column.

“I am wet, Master,” she whispered.

“Good girl for telling me number 6.”

The straps of her bra were eased off her shoulders, and his hands returned to massage and squeeze her breasts, both her typing and breathing becoming more erratic.

He kneaded her breast harder as his right hand slid down her stomach, pulling up the short grey skirt and rubbing between her legs firmly over her black panties. He could already feel the moisture seeping through the delicate material onto his fingertips.

She was against him, feeling him harden against her back through the mesh support of the chair. “Finish your work, number 6,” he ordered, as her hands slipped from the keyboard. Her eyes closed, her sighs now becoming moans of pleasure.

“Yes, Master, sorry, Master, ooooh god.” She moaned as his fingers slid inside her panties and stroked her outer labia, edging slightly inside before being dragged upwards and applying the gentlest pressure to her clitoris. She gasped as she typed the last few entries and closed the file. “I have, I have, I have finished Master,” she whispered, the control in her voice threatening to break.

“Good girl, then you may have your reward,” he said, standing straight, his hand wrapping around her throat just a little too tight as he tilted her head up towards him. She failed to suppress a moan at the feeling of gentle pressure on her neck and sighed as he kissed deeply, his tongue entwining hers for a few seconds before he broke the kiss, leaving her breathless.

He stepped to her side and unzipped his trousers, releasing his hard cock as he applied pressure to the back of her head. She allowed herself to be bent forward and opened her mouth hungrily, rolling her tongue around the head of his member, tasting the bitter-sweet precum already beading on the end.

His other hand found the back of her head as she wrapped her lips around his girth and relaxed her neck, allowing herself to be moved up and down the length of his erection. She gagged a little as he hit the back of her throat, but she could feel her pussy becoming soaked at the feeling of him filling her mouth.

After a few minutes, he pulled her off his cock, red-faced and gasping for breath but smiling. “Please fuck me, Master,” she almost whimpered.

“You know I love it when you beg, do it again,” he said, smiling down at her. 

“Please fuck me, Master, please, I need to feel you inside me.”

He pulled her to her feet and bent her over the desk after closing her laptop and sliding it aside. She gripped the edge of the desk as he pushed up her skirt and slid her panties down to her knees, kicking her ankles apart. He drove into her soaking pussy in one movement that forced a moan from her throat.

He quickly built up a rhythm, thrusting into her from behind, pausing only to unhook her bra and slide it down her arms. After a few minutes, her breathing was becoming more laboured, her moans louder.

She tried to push back against him, desperate for him to fuck her harder and deeper, but he held her still by her skirt around her waist and edged himself in and out, teasing her for a few minutes before suddenly slamming into her buttocks slowly and hard.

“Please, please, please may I cum, Master?” she whispered, between thrusts, trying desperately to control her voice and her rising orgasm.

He said nothing and drove into her another three times.

“Oh god, please Master, pleaaase,” she begged.

“Cum for your Master No 6,” he said, finally breaking his silence. Almost the second he spoke, she moaned out loud on release, her back arching as her body tensed and spasmed beneath him.

She collapsed onto the desk, the cold wood against her breasts shocking her back to reality as she breathed heavily.

He eased himself out of her and unzipped her skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. He pulled her up to stand, and her blouse fell to the floor. To her surprise, he pulled her panties back up and said, “Sit on the bed.”

“Yes, Master,” she said and walked to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. He walked to a chest of drawers, and she gave him a knowing smile over her shoulder as he walked towards her with a coil of black rope in his hands.

Ten minutes later, she was lying face down on the bed, her hands tied behind her back and her legs tied together at the ankle and just below her knees. Finally, he lifted her head and applied red tape across her mouth and a black leather blindfold across her eyes.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I am going to take a shower, don’t go anywhere, Number 6,” he said, aiming a hard slap at her arse that made her squeal through the gag, more from surprise than actual pain.

She lifted her legs and tested the restraints as she heard the shower turn on next door.

He had once told her that if she were ever able to escape from his restraints, he would reward her. She turned onto her back and wriggled, trying to make space between her wrists, but as always, the ropes were too tight to move.

She lay still in defeat and wondered what else he had in store for her that night. She knew from experience that he liked to build her anticipation and keep her guessing. She also realised with a smile that her pussy was once again soaking.

She heard the shower stop, and a few minutes later, she heard his footsteps cross the room towards her.

She held her breath . . . . .

(See Story Illustrations folder in Media section for AI Filtered pics to accompany the story.)