Lady Boss
Stepping closer, she wiped the semen from him with a rubber-gloved hand, then abruptly shoved her fingers into his mouth. “Now eat your cum for me.”
Men typically have sexual fantasies about models, movie stars and other glamorous celebrities. George’s were all about his boss. She was a gorgeous redhead, tall, lithe and superbly shaped. Her impeccably stylish business attire projected an aura of competence and authority that only served to enhance her feminine allure. By night, George masturbated to fantasies of making bold, passionate love to her. By day, he felt intimidated in her presence. She was his superior in the workplace, and out of his league in any event. Still, he lived for the moments when he was summoned to her corner office to do her bidding.
Late one Friday afternoon, George’s boss surprised him by suggesting they have drinks together that night “to get to know one another better.” As to where and when, she told him, “Just come by my place after eight, and we’ll take it from there.” At 8:05 he knocked nervously on her door.
She answered the door clad only in a short black silk robe that bared most of her stunning legs. “I didn’t feel like going out tonight,” she explained as she invited George into her spacious, tastefully furnished apartment. She had him take a seat while she prepared their drinks. Returning with the cocktails, she relaxed on the couch opposite him.
With her hair down and wearing only that sheer, clinging little scrap of filmy black silk, George’s sexy lady boss was an incredible sight. She lounged like some great supple she-panther in repose, coolly sipping her drink. Speechless, George just stared at her like a fool. “What are you looking at?” she snapped suddenly.
George flinched, stung by the rebuke. “Oh, I know what’s on your little mind,” she purred slyly, and then, “I can promise you a night you’ll never forget. But it has to be on my terms.” George instantly stammered his agreement. At that point, he would have agreed to anything. Lounging half-naked on her couch, cocktail glass in hand, the boss lady fairly reeked of raw sex. Any man with a drop of red blood in his veins would have crawled on his belly over barbed wire for even the most microscopic chance of actually bedding such a woman.
“Wait here,” she said, then rose from the couch and glided into another room in one smooth motion. George downed the rest of his drink in a single swallow. Moments later, the pad of soft footsteps behind him alerted him to her return as she re-entered the room from a different direction. Then came the whip-crack of her commanding voice, “George, get over here!” Instantly he staggered clumsily to his feet and turned. His brain reeled at what he saw before him.
George’s boss had changed her wardrobe, and was costumed as he had never seen or imagined her. She stood poised for dramatic effect, allowing him to drink in the sight of her. Nearly six feet tall barefoot, she now towered over him in high stiletto heels. Her long, shapely dancer’s legs were sheathed in black silk stockings upheld by garters attached to the black leather corset that clinched her waist, enhancing the delicious curves of her svelte figure. Her luscious breasts were emphasized rather than concealed by the tiny triangles of a skimpy bra made of some gossamer-like substance. Scandalously brief thong panties of the same filmy fabric likewise left little to the imagination. Long skintight gloves of glossy black latex glistened on her supple arms like a fresh coating of lacquer. She toyed absently with a wicked looking riding crop, and at the sight of the implement George realized, with pounding heart, exactly where this was headed.
“I don’t know about this, Ms. –“
She cut him off. “Here I am Madame Jade,” she proclaimed imperiously. She then told him he had a choice. “You can go back home to TV reruns and warmed-over leftovers. Or you can stay.”
To George it was as if a door had swung open, offering a glimpse of mysterious realms that lay beyond. Dare he step through it? Madame Jade sensed him wavering. She pointed a slim finger to a spot on the ground before her. That was all it took. George felt his knees buckle, as though the force of gravity had suddenly increased tenfold, pulling him down. Before he knew it, he was kneeling before her. The sight of her delicately molded feet, maddening in those tantalizing “fuck me” shoes, filled his dizzy gaze. Compelled by an overpowering urge, he kissed one foot, then the other. He had crossed the threshold.
“On your feet!” she commanded. George clambered back up, faltering and unsteady like an old man. “I’m the only one around here allowed to wear clothes,” Madame Jade informed him. “Lose those cheap rags now.”
Instantly, fearing to show hesitation, George commenced to nervously undress in front of Madame Jade. Stripped naked, he stood at rigid attention as she walked slowly around him, subjecting him to her inspection. George was all too aware of his physical shortcomings; in terms of physique and penis size he was drearily average at best. Madame Jade poked and prodded him, pinched his nipples, smacked his ass, roughly groped his cock and balls. Finally she grabbed his dick and strode out of the room, leading him along like a pet on a leash.
Traversing a short hallway, she led him into a candlelit room furnished with an array of bondage-and-discipline paraphernalia. Releasing his dick, she shoved him onto a rack and made fast his wrists and ankles. Selecting a whip consisting of several broad leather straps, she flogged his back and buttocks until he yelled for mercy. When she stopped, George sagged and hung on the rack as limp as a dishrag. Madame Jade smiled. This part was just to soften him up and break down his inhibitions. What she actually had in mind was much more subtle and insidious.
Releasing him from the rack, Madame Jade led George to a comfortable chair. Weakened and spent from his punishment, George sank gratefully onto the soft seat cushions. Too late he realized that the chair was equipped with wrist and ankle restraints. Before he knew it, Madame Jade had imprisoned him once more.
Now Madame Jade stood before him again, posing seductively, turning and flaunting her full womanly ass. Looking back at him over her shoulder, she smirked, “Bet you’d like a piece of this ass.” Before he could reply, she drifted down and seated herself in his lap. The scent of her perfume and the warmth of her body drove him wild. Leaning close, she caressed his cheek and whispered husky-voiced obscenities; “Ever fuck a woman like me?” George shook his head. She laughed.
Tease-and-denial was a sadistic game that Madame Jade always delighted in. This sort of cat-and-mouse toying with some poor horny boob never failed to make her moist. For George, this was like getting a lap-dance in Hell, mocked and tormented by a ravishing she-devil that teased him to the heights of lustful frenzy with no chance of fulfillment. Seated in his lap, she stroked him softly, the light caress of her gloved fingers sending shivers racing along his tortured nerves. His pulse quickened when she moved in for what he thought was a kiss. For the briefest of instants, her lips brushed his ever so lightly. Then she was gone, drifting up and away from him. George squirmed alone in his chair. He clenched his eyes shut in an effort to hold back bitter tears of lonely frustration.
The low throb of sensuous music caused him to open his eyes again. Madame Jade was dancing seductively before him, her every movement a lurid invitation. George moaned softly as she turned her back to him, displaying her magnificent ass once more. He bit his lower lip when she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She shed the garment with a smooth shrug of her shoulders. Using an old-time stripper move, she dangled the bra at arm’s length between gloved thumb and forefinger before flinging it away. Then she turned towards him, bare-breasted.
Her breasts were not large, but looked as succulent as forbidden fruit. And her nipples! They were erect…hard. Dear god, they were like traffic cones! George felt himself grow dizzy and faint as she glided towards him. Gripping the back of his chair she leaned in close, holding her nipples mere inches from the gasping lips that longed to suckle them. George strained every muscle in his neck to reach them, but to no avail. “Is baby hungry?” she whispered, then drifted away again.
Madame Jade looked down upon him, well pleased with her handiwork. George had been reduced to the very picture of agonized male sexual frustration. He squirmed helplessly in his seat, alternately gritting his teeth and dry-sobbing. His balls were tight and his dick was hard. Insane for relief, he was actually thrusting with his hips into the empty air. After he exhausted himself this way, he begged, “Please Madame…just untie one of my hands.”
“Why?” she asked, knowing well the reason.
“So I can… so I can…can…you know…”
“No, I don’t know,” she lied, “Explain.”
“So I can…can…m…m-m-masturbate…” he finally blurted, his face flushed with embarrassment.
She unfastened one of his hands. “Okay, little boy. Now you can m-m-m-masturbate.”
Groaning with relief, tears streaming freely down his face, George began to shamelessly stroke his throbbing penis.
Madame Jade mocked him the whole time; “That’s right, dick-whacker, jack that cock for me,” and, “You look like a fucking monkey in the god-damned zoo,” and finally, “Okay jerk-off, now shoot your load for me.” Moaning loudly, George creamed all over his belly.
Madame Jade told him that he looked like a baby soiling itself.
Stepping closer, she wiped the semen from him with a rubber-gloved hand, then abruptly shoved her fingers into his mouth. “Now eat your cum for me.” She scooped up some more of it. “Here, little baby, be sure to eat all of your baby food.” And when it was all gone, she walked out, leaving him alone in the room.
George sat alone for a long time. The sound of a keyboard clicking told him that she had busied herself at her computer. By now he had to urinate. He called out, “Hello?” No answer. The pressure in his bladder grew worse. “Please Madame Jade, I have to pee!” That didn’t work either. Only when he whimpered, “I have to go to the potty” did she relent. Freed from his bonds, he scurried to the bathroom, clutching his abdomen with both hands. He wept for joy as he relieved himself.
Afterwards she paddled his pasty ass black-and-blue for leaving the toilet seat up, then sent him on his way. By the time he saw her again at the office Monday morning, it all seemed like a dream. Neither of them ever spoke of what had happened, but George felt certain that it would not be long before Madame Jade summoned him again.
