At His Pleasure: Addie Learns the Ropes (2 page)

Chapter Two

Day two on the job, and I was running late. Like, not a little bit late: super late. Apparently one month out of school and I turned into a certified narcoleptic. I normally took the train to downtown but today I begged mom to let me borrow her car, then broke at least three or four driving laws to get to Banks & Smith at five minutes to nine.

It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught.
I floored it.

Lucky for me I was wearing flats today. I still stashed my fancy, painful heels under my desk for when I had to go in his office, but thanks to my flats I could run through the lobby, past a group of adults and right into an elevator. I tapped my toes on the marble.
World’s slowest elevator. At least I’m the only one in here so I’m not stopping at every goddamn floor.

I hoped that woman from my first day wouldn’t be there—I could just imagine her disapproving gaze on me, the young, incompetent, idiot secretary. I bit my lip and pressed the elevator button again, wishing it would go faster.

Please, God, don’t let Mr. Banks be in there. Please please please.

The elevator door opened, and I ran through the empty room to my desk, tossing my purse on the floor and kicking off my shoes. Jamming my feet into my pumps, I checked my desk. No notes, no unheard voicemails, no pink slip firing me on the spot. I exhaled.
Whew. Might have dodged a bullet. But I’m only five minutes late
—
that’s not so bad, is it?

The phone beeped.
Well, there’s my answer.
I sighed and pushed the speaker button.

“Miss Curtis, come into my office.”

Damn.

Time to get fired, epically.
At least I made it
one
day…that’s something, right?

Inside his office, Mr. Banks sat behind the desk, his hands folded in his lap. He looked at me standing there with a cool, neutral expression. “Miss Curtis,” he said. “It seems to me that it’s five minutes past nine.”

“Yes, Mr. Banks.”

“And what time is your shift supposed to start?”

“Nine.”

“So you are late.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Banks—I didn’t mean to be late, I went as fast as I could. I promise it won’t happen again, sir.”
Sir...where did that come from? I’d never called any man “sir” in my life.
But in the moment, it felt right.

He looked thoughtful as he studied me for a moment. “I don’t expect that it will,” he said. “One more thing, Miss Curtis. Even if you had gotten here five minutes earlier, you wouldn’t have been on time.”

I must have looked confused. He continued: “Being on time is being late. Arriving early—
that’s
being on time.”

I wanted to tell him that he made no sense, but I bit my tongue. It sounded like he wasn’t going to fire me...at least not yet.

“Since your father told me that this would be your very first job,” he said, leaning forward, “I’ll overlook this mistake, just this once.” I nodded, feeling my stomach unclench.

“But,” he added, “it’s also important that you learn about consequences. It’s a lesson that you’ll find useful in every part of your life.” He studied my face. “I suppose I’m the one to teach it to you.”

I nervously clasped my hands together. “Th-thank you?”

“That wasn’t a question. After your work day is over, you are to come in here and clean my office. All of it: ceiling, floors, tabletops, everything.”

I looked at the floor, resigned.
Why did his office have to be so huge? I’d be here for at least another hour and a half…

“If it’s not done to my satisfaction when I come in tomorrow morning, at that time we will reevaluate whether you should continue with this internship.” He leaned back in his chair and picked up his tablet. “That’ll be all for now, Miss Curtis.”

Chastened, I walked back out and sat down at my desk. At least there wasn’t anyone else here to witness my humiliation. I guessed that I should have felt grateful that I was getting a second chance, even if it meant scrubbing a floor on my hands and knees. But some part of me rebelled at how harsh and stern he was with me—couldn’t I get a tiny break? I mean, it was only five minutes, and my first job ever.

Who did Mr. Banks think he was, anyway, with all his talk about consequences and lessons? My dad?

* * * *

I glanced at the time on the bottom of the screen. Ten minutes until closing, not that it meant anything for me. Someone had dropped off a bucket of cleaning gear behind my desk while I was out at lunch, and it had been taunting me all day. Not exactly what I counted on doing this summer, for sure.

Mr. Banks had already left...I guess I could have gone in and started cleaning already, but he’d made it crystal clear that I was supposed to start
after
my shift was over. God help me if I went in a minute before, I mused to myself. At this point I couldn’t afford any more screw-ups.

I closed the expense report I was working on and checked the clock again. Five-thirty—
finally
.

Picking up the bucket, I opened the door and walked it, shutting it tight and locking it behind me. The last thing I needed was someone walking in on me. I surveyed the room—it didn’t look
all
that dirty, so how long could it possibly take? I picked up a feather duster.
Time to earn my keep...

An hour later, I wiped the sweat off my forehead. I vastly underestimated how much work it was to clean the office. I mopped the floor, dusted off the houseplants, scrubbed the windows...all that was left was Mr. Banks’s desk. I took a rag in hand and wiped down his already spotless desk, swearing softly to myself. In the morning, he’d be able to eat his breakfast off the floor, if that’s what he wanted to do.

I nudged his computer mouse off to the side, and his monitor blinked on. I reached up to turn it off, and then my eyes happened to see what was on the screen…

Oh my god.

A beautiful young blonde was poised on the screen, her naked back covered in a faint sheen of sweat. Her face was directly in front of a man’s legs...she gazed at me, a smoky, seductive look in her eyes.

What is this?

I touched the keyboard. The next image flashed onto the screen—it was from the side this time, her open mouth posed over the man’s thick, brown cock.

I gasped aloud. The woman cupped her own breasts, twisting her nipples between her thumb and forefinger…the next picture showed her mouth stretched around him, and the last one she was drawing away from him, a string of cum connecting her lips to his cock.

Jesus.
My heart beat hard in my chest as I realized what I stumbled on. Mr. Banks’s personal…entertainment. Closing the window, I scanned the folder in which he stored the images of the blonde. Women in schoolgirl outfits. Girl-on-girl photos. Even the image of a gorgeous redhead getting fucked from behind by a man that looked strangely like Mr. Banks himself. I sat down in his chair, mesmerized.

There were more photos here, but also videos.

What the hell am I doing?
I shouldn’t have done his. I knew that. This was so obviously off-limits, forbidden…but I
had
to look. I scrolled down, looking for something exciting. There was just so
much
of it, and all of it was high-def, gorgeously shot, top notch stuff.

Mom and dad were conservative, so I got most of my sex ed from high school boys, and to be honest, they were pretty unimaginative...and I’d never seen anything like this. Never dared to search for it myself. And now here I was, smack dab in the middle of my boss’s office, exploring his stash with wide, shocked eyes.

To say this was a sexual awakening was an understatement. I was beginning to see a pattern as I scrolled down further. Hot, young women. Older men.
So, Mr. Banks,
I thought to myself.
This is what you like?

I glanced at the modified dates. Looks like the latest video,
badgirlbound.mov
, was viewed only two hours ago. I swallowed. He was watching this while I was right outside! I couldn’t stop now. I had to see what he was watching. My cursor hovered over the file. I bit my lip in nervous anticipation and double-clicked the file.

An older man, about Mr. Banks’s age, pressed hot kisses against the neck of a young woman. While her mouth opened to moan softly, she barely moved. The camera panned out—
Jesus
—she was tied up on a mattress, her wrists bound and lifted above her head.

Without really thinking about it I dropped a hand down my thigh.

He fondled her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples roughly, then pushed her thighs apart. I stared at the girl’s soft pink cleft, bare and glistening with arousal. I wondered what it would be like to be shaved like that...if it felt any different, to feel a man’s cock against that silky smooth skin. The man parted her lips with his fingers, revealing even more of her perfect, wet pussy.

I could feel my mouth watering as I watched the video. He lowered his head to her cunt, licking her bottom to top, provoking a strong shudder through her body. “Don’t you dare move, slave,” he said, “if you don’t want me to punish you even harder.” The woman in the video whimpered.

He stroked her mercilessly now, his tongue twirling around her clit, pushing open her inner lips and licking deep inside her. She was trying to keep herself quiet but every so often the camera moved to her face, which was dark red with the effort of her restraint, even as he pushed her harder and faster towards her orgasm.

She was about to come when he suddenly stopped. She cried out in disappointment and then he climbed on top of her, wrapped her legs around him and plunged into her with one deep thrust. She groaned deep in her throat as he set the rhythm, his cock pounding into her with a slick wet sound.

“I’m coming!” She whined.
God, it was so realistic...there was no way that she was acting. I knew from watching myself in a mirror what a girl’s face looked like when she came...and this was for real.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” She’d given up on trying to keep quiet now, each of his thrusts shaking her tied-up body, her tits bouncing in time with his strokes.

“Come for me,” he ordered her. “Your master orders you to come.” She twisted herself in the ropes—then, as if paralyzed, held still for a long moment as her climax spread through her body. Her thighs clenched as if trying to hold that pleasure in. Satisfied with her obedience, he pulled his still-hard cock from inside of her. On screen his cock gleamed with her slippery juices.

Watching her, he started to stroke his cock in his hand, from the base of his cock up to the head, faster and faster. “Oh yeah,” he moaned. “Who owns you?”

“You do,” she sobbed out.

I stroked my clit through my panties, the wetness from my pussy soaking my crotch.
God, this was hot.
I’d never admit to anyone that I liked seeing a woman like this...bound, submissive, debauched.

He pumped his hand up and down harder now, taking in the gorgeous, just-fucked girl beneath him. “I’m gonna come on you,” he gasped, and she moaned in response.

Pinching my clit between my juicy folds now, I panted openly, feeling my nipples tighten in my bra. This was all dirty, wrong. I let my other hand drift down, and arched two fingers inside my pussy.

His cock was red and angry now as he stroked it ever harder, and then he started to come, gripping his cock and painting his white-hot cum all over her sweet, beautiful face.

Oh god.
I came writhing on the chair, my face matching that of the woman in the video, agonized with pleasure. I squeezed my thighs together, the exquisite pleasure in my pussy throbbing out around my cramped fingers.

The video ended and I was all alone now in the quiet office. Weakly, I let my hands slip out from between my legs.

I sighed, leaning back in Mr. Banks’s chair, my fingers wet. Knowing no one was watching, I slipped one in my mouth, sucking off my juices—god, I smelled so good. And tasted like salt. I’d never seen porn like this before...never been aroused like this.

So this was Mr. Banks’s little secret.

Chapter Three

I got home at nine o’clock.
Ugh, so late
.
Mom’s going to be pissed
. I grabbed a burger and fries from the drive-thru, but I barely tasted each greasy bite I took. My mind was fixed on what I'd seen in Mr. Banks’s office: the images of the sexy young slave and her master, the blonde with cum on her lips…

It was Mr. Banks’s secret. Now it was mine.

I blinked, shoving the half-eaten container of fries back in the bag. I was already home—when did that happen? Hopping out of the car, I sneaked in, hoping no one would notice me.

But there was dad, sitting on the couch. “How was your second day?”

“Fine.”

“Your mother told me that you had to borrow the car to get to work today. She said you overslept.”

Walking into the kitchen I tossed out the bag of food. “Yeah, but I got there on time,” I said, praying that he couldn’t tell I was lying. “Had to stay after to finish Mr. Banks’s expense reports from Japan, but everything went fine. You don’t have to worry about me, dad.”

He nodded. “Just do your best to make a good impression on him, okay? This could really lead to something for you, Addie, if you do a good job.”

I groaned. “I know, I know. You’ve told me like a million times already.”

“I hope you’re listening, honey.”

I shrugged and climbed the stairs to my room. After today, the last thing I wanted to do was to explain myself to dad.

Taking off my earrings, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Not too bad, even after an evening of playing maid in Mr. Banks’s office. Letting my hair down from its tight bun, I fluffed my dark brown locks behind me so it fell softly down my back.
Time for bed. Finally.

I was unzipping my skirt when I heard my iPhone beep. Who could be texting me, on a Tuesday night? Annoyed, I grabbed the cell phone.

It was Mr. Banks.

Addie you need to bring me the Schumacher files from my office to my house 378 Palomino Way

I stared at it in disbelief. Did he seriously expect me to go
back
to the office and then drive over to his house?

Driver will be at your place in 5 mins

Gripping my phone, I scurried down the stairs.

“Addie? Thought you were going to bed.”

“Dad, Mr. Banks wants me to run a freaking errand right now. The man’s freaking nuts.”

He didn’t look up from the TV. “Well honey, you’d better go do it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Hon, you’d better do what it takes to make him happy, is all I’m saying.”

I shoved my feet back into my shoes and threw on a cardigan. Through the living room window I could see a sleek black car pull up to our driveway. Oh, and did I mention it had started raining?

“Better get this over with,” I muttered to myself.

* * * *

The files sat next to me on the leather car seat. The driver was going as fast as he could, which made me feel slightly better. At this rate, I’d be home before midnight, unless Mr. Banks decided that he wanted me to go back to the office and chain myself to my desk.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind that...
the thought of the video flashed through my head again and I blushed, glad that it was dark.

We pulled up to Mr. Banks’s house, the security gate sliding silently open for us. I looked out the window as we rolled up the driveway: everything was understated, minimalist. Exactly the same as his office.

The driver opened my door. “Thanks,” I said, absentminded. I dashed to door, hugging the files to my chest to keep them dry. After a moment, the front door opened for me as if someone was watching, and I took a nervous step into the entryway.

“Mr. Banks?” I called out softly. Almost everything was dark, but there was the glow of light in a room down the hallway. I walked towards it—it was a study, the walls filled with books, a fireplace in the back, a huge chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. It was gorgeous, old, and lavish…it looked like a painting. Totally the opposite of what I expected.

Mr. Banks was sitting with his feet propped up on his desk. He glanced up as I entered.

“Do you have the Schumacher files?” he demanded.

I nodded and placed the manila envelope on his desk. Standing up, he opened it and flipped through the papers, pacing slowly around the room. “Everything’s in place,” he said, and put the documents back in the folder. “You can take that to legal in the morning and tell them I approve.”

I could feel my cheeks coloring.
All this...for
that
?!
This couldn’t have waited twelve freaking hours?
I tucked it under my arm. “Thank you,” I said, trying to keep the resentment out of my tone.
Maybe I should’ve just worked at the Burger King.

He studied me. Still dressed in a tie, white shirt, and trousers, it seemed like he had never stopped working. “Do your parents know you’re out this late?”

“They understand that my internship is demanding,” I said. Looking up, I tried not to glare at him, but when my eyes met his I could feel my blush deepening.
If he knew what I’d done in his chair earlier…

“And they trust you to be out by yourself?”

“Yeah. I’m not some kind of truant. I don’t have a curfew or something—I’m eighteen. Plus I’ve always been a good girl, Mr. Banks.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s true, you are,” he said softly. His eyes held mine for a minute. There was something there...was it desire? I became aware that my hair was down and damp, my blouse slightly see-through from the rain. Something else won over, though.

“You’d better go home now,” he said. His voice sounded slightly rough. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

I shook myself out of my trance. “Yes, Mr. Banks.”

“One more thing, Miss Curtis.”

“Yes?”

“Make sure you’re on time.”

* * * *

I was at my desk by eight thirty, a venti black coffee steaming up my glasses. Today I got up so early I didn’t even have time to put in my contacts.
Mr. Banks came through the elevator doors fifteen minutes later, casting an approving glance in my direction as he strode past me.

I smiled to myself. Today was the day. I was going to impress him...I was early, the Schumacher files delivered, his mail already sorted, and all his expense reports for the previous month finished. There was nothing he could possibly complain about.

No...today, Addie Curtis is the world’s best secretary.
Throwing myself into my work, I barely noticed the hours passing by. There was a lot to it—after this, I’d never look down on secretaries again.

Mr. Banks left the building around four; he had an appointment with a broker on the other side of town. I took the final work hour of the day to clean up his calendar, and finished booking his business trip to Amsterdam at five thirty on the dot.
I kinda rule right now.

Tossing my third empty coffee cup into the trash, I stood up and picked up my purse. All ready to go—and then I stopped.

Mr. Banks was gone for the day. He wouldn’t come back until the morning. I could go in his office if I wanted to...I could turn on his computer, open up those files...I felt a faint warmth between my thighs at the thought.

I mean, why not? No one’s gonna find out.

Dropping my purse back down, I walked into his darkened office. I didn’t bother turning on the lights—I certainly didn’t want to be interrupted. Sitting down in his chair once more, I flicked his mouse and the screen lit up. Nothing very exciting this time—just a spreadsheet. I minimized the window and opened his personal folder.

Hmm. Badgirlbound.mov again?
I could feel my mouth salivating as I scrolled through the files, until I found something new.
Badgirlbound2.mov.
I clicked on the file and sat back in the chair, unbuttoning my blazer and the top of my blouse.

I skipped to the middle of the video. The premise was the same as the first one—same girl, same man. But this time her hands were bound in front of her, tied to a rack...she was gagged now, and a thick black collar ringed her neck. The sight of a woman like this—naked, trussed up, her nipples hard and her pussy bare—god, it sent an instant jolt through my cunt.

Easing my breasts out from the top of my bra, I teased my own nipples into hard points. I licked my lip as I watched the man run his hands over her round, soft ass. With his hair graying at his temples, he almost looked like Mr. Banks…

The camera zoomed in. He was parting her cheeks now, slowly pressing one lube-slicked finger after another into her tight hole.
Jesus...is he going to fuck her in the ass?
I moaned. Stretching her open with his fingers for the camera, he grunted in approval as she leaned forward, lifting her ass and showing off her beautiful shaved pussy.

I had a hand on my nipple and the other between my legs now, rubbing my clit hard under my wet panties. I knew a lot of the so-called good girls at school had anal sex to save their virginity for marriage. I always assumed that they were slutty. But this was so insanely wrong and hot.

I leaned my head back as my fingers moved faster, my legs trembling. He was fucking her now, his long length sliding in and out of her loosened ass, his hand tilting her ass up.

I never imagined that I could get turned by this. I wanted to know what that felt like, to feel myself filled with a cock in such a dark, forbidden place. My clit throbbed at the thought, and I could feel the spasms getting closer and closer.

As she came with a strangled cry, he whispered in her ear: “This is what good girls get. Fucked where they need it most, right in the ass.”

I remembered what I’d said to him the night before—
I’ve always been a good girl, Mr. Banks.
Then I was fantasizing about him—about his hand between my legs, his mouth on me, his cock in my pussy and my ass.

My orgasm ripped through me the second I heard the door to the office unlock.

* * * *

Crap.

I yanked my hand out from between my legs but my breasts were still exposed, my nipples hard and aching from my climax. A dark figure strode in—I knew in a heartbeat from its posture that it was Mr. Banks.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. He stopped suddenly, seeing me in his chair.

“Adeline?”

Yanking my shirt over my naked chest, I desperately tried to avoid eye contact. “S-sorry, Mr. Banks, I didn’t think you’d be back, I was—I mean, I’m just about to—“

His face stern, he put his hand on the monitor and turned it around to him. The slick sound of the man pounding away at the girl’s ass filled the room. His eyes widened a moment, then fixed on me.

“Adeline—” he paused, as if searching for the right words. “I can’t believe—”

He gripped the desk for a moment, getting himself under control. I watched him, holding my breath.

“Adeline Curtis.” He was more composed now, grinding out each word. “I am extremely, extremely disappointed in you, young lady.”

I felt as if my stomach had turned to ice. “Mr. Banks,” I said, my voice quavering. “I am so, so sorry. I—”

He held up a hand. “There’s nothing to explain, Miss Curtis. I think it’s all very clear.”

I fell silent, my hands cold in my lap.

He walked slowly around the desk, as if making a decision.

“This is so obviously unacceptable, on multiple levels.” He was standing near me now, his height towering over me. I stared down at the floor, humiliated and just waiting for the hammer to fall. “I think I need to make it clear to you just…how unacceptable this is.”

Holy shit, was he going to tell dad?
I felt faintly nauseous.
What the hell was I thinking? What am I going to do?
Panic surged through me.

His hand grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “Get up,” he growled.

Still in my heels, I wobbled as I stood up.

“The desk,” he snapped. “Lean over it.”

Adrenaline flooded my senses.
What was he planning to do…?

I did as he ordered, feeling the corners of the desk bite into my midsection as I leaned up against it. I jumped when I felt his hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me all the way down onto the desk until my face was lying against the cold, shiny wood.

“So,” he said, his tone neutral now. “I see that you…enjoy things that are a little rough.” His hand moved down to my waist, tightening.

“In that case, maybe this won’t be such a bad punishment for you.”

A firm slap exploded across my backside, and I gasped, my face red-hot against the desk.

“A good girl like you,” he murmured to me in his rough, baritone voice, “should know better than to be so naughty with her boss’s things.”

Another slap hit my ass. I whimpered, the humiliation growing.