Tales From Under The Desk, Part 8

I felt a gentle tug on it; kind of tentative at first. That was followed by a more pronounced yank. The feeling was different… and mixed with the heat in my ass cheeks, I couldn’t quite place it. I didn’t have much time to think about it.

"Turn around."

As I turned to face him, I looked down and saw what looked like an electrical cord or cable in his hand. The other end disappeared under my skirt, wrapped around my hip and was obviously attached to points behind me. He tugged on it gently and again that solidity inside me forced me to move with it. I realized he’d created a collar and leash, just not in the traditional style.

"On your knees." He said it softly.

I dropped to my knees as fluidly as I could. I felt a sense of dread that there wouldn’t be enough slack in the cord to prevent the thing from being painfully yanked from inside me by the force of my own movement. Nothing was yanked, though and when I was situated on my knees in front of him, he tugged the cord a little, pulling me toward him, between his legs.

I rested my arms on his thighs and from this position, I had to truly look up to meet his gaze. As our eyes met, he reached behind me with one hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He pulled down on it until my arched back and neck would go no further. My mouth was opened wide and gasping. His lips played lightly over mine. It was an almost-kiss; one that I absolutely had to have and one that I had to move my lips toward his to achieve. This caused extreme pain from the fistful of my hair that he wasn’t letting up on. I could kiss him, but not without subjecting myself to a new level of pain.

The need and the pain battled it out, each one taking a turn until I could stand it no longer and the other took over. Then I felt the thing inside me being pulled again. My hips moved backwards trying to accommodate the movement and at the same time, making the arch in the rest of my body more painful. He lightly traced his tongue around my lips. I couldn’t move.

He pulled away from my mouth and looked into my eyes, still grasping my hair and keeping steady pressure on the cord. There was that connection again… the power and the passion and the knowing that our eyes conveyed to one another.

The phone rang.

His gaze remained on me as he let go of my hair and gave the cord some slack.

He rolled away from me a little and answered the phone. I rolled my head and shoulders around a little, working the pain out of my neck and back.

I listened while he talked about some work he was doing, silently awed that he could sound perfectly normal in this situation. He hung up the phone and looked at me again. He moved one hand to my nipple and pinched hard, reawakening the pain that had started to dull. He moved to the other nipple and pinched it hard, too. He seemed amused by my gasps.

"Down."

I quickly lowered my forehead to the floor and clasped my hands behind my back. "Down" was a position that he’d taught me early on and one that resulted in many a striped ass from me not executing it quickly enough.

I heard him get up and move around, opening and closing a drawer. Then he walked to the door. I heard the whoosh and he was gone.