Taking Dictation by N.T. Morley
“I’ll be dictating a personal letter today, Miss White. I assume you have no objection?”
Miss White crosses and uncrosses her legs, tugging at her short skirt to hide the lace tops of her nude-colored seamed stockings, which clip to her off-white garters. She clears her throat and adjusts her pad of paper.
“Certainly not, Mr. Williams.”
“All right then. Dear Kymberlee. That’s with a ‘y’ and two ‘e’s.”
“Dear Kymberlee. It was great to meet you recently at the Plaza Hotel to discuss our mutual business concerns. In particular, I enjoyed discussing the possibility of an exchange of ideas for office reorganization, which promises to be quite fruitful. That’s ‘reorganization,’ one word, Miss White.”
“Yes, sir, I know.”
Mr. Williams gets out of his plush leather chair and comes around the side of the desk, sitting on the edge of it very close to Miss White. The secretary looks up at him. She always feels a little fluttery when his eyes rove over her, and today she’s wearing a particularly low-cut blouse, one with a V-neck that shows a hint of cleavage. She wonders if she should have worn a more substantial brassiere.
“Pursuant to our conversation, I should like to offer you a position as office manager at our firm with the very terms we discussed, which I’ve attached in this memo. Attach office memo 473, Miss White, offering a salary of $56,000.”
The secretary’s eyes widen slightly. “Yes. Yes, sir. Definitely.”
Mr. Williams leans closer and clears his throat. “More importantly, however, I wish to compliment you on your interview techniques. Suggesting we meet for such a late lunch in the bar at the hotel was an inspired choice. This, I think, underlines your suitability for the position. I would have suggested an earlier meeting, perhaps at a more public restaurant, which wouldn’t have allowed for the quality of discourse we enjoyed. That’s discourse, o-u-r-s-e, Miss White.”
“Yes, sir. I know.”
“Furthermore, attending the meeting without wearing panties was a commendable if slightly daring career move. Clearly you’d planned well, as the tables at the Plaza are just small enough that you could reach out and guide my hand up that impossibly short skirt you wore to touch your pussy. When I found out you were wet, I’ll admit, I was inclined to make an offer right then and there. The fact that you were shaved smooth like a kinky little tart sweetened things immeasurably. But I then refrained from showing my hand, Kymberlee, because I wanted to see if you’d really put out for a job like the tawdry ho I suspected you were. That’s ‘ho,’ h-o, Miss White.”
Miss White shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Mr. Williams’ eyes are locked quite firmly on her cleavage, and though she doesn’t turn to meet his eyes, she can’t help but notice from the corner of her vision that his eyes are sweeping lower, savoring the curve of her thighs. She notices with some excitement that the skirt is riding up and the lace tops of her stockings are again showing. She feels her nipples hardening and knows they’ll show quite plainly through this top. When she glances up at Mr. Williams, she immediately notices the unexpected distension in his pants.
“Do you wear panties to business meetings?”
Miss White clears her throat and locks eyes with Mr. Williams. The intensity of his gaze sends a pulse through her body, and she squirms a little, her butt wriggling in the secretarial chair.
“Is… is that part of the letter, sir?”
“No, Miss White. It’s a question. Do you wear panties to business meetings, Miss White?”
“Um,” says the secretary. “Ordinarily I do, Mr. Williams.”
“But on special occasions?”
Miss White reddens slightly. “On special occasions I might not.”
Mr. Williams chuckles. “We’ll have to evaluate your job duties, Miss White. See if we can provide some of those special occasions. Are you wearing panties today?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“A pearl-colored thong,” says the secretary. “With pink lace.”
“Very nice,” hums Mr. Williams. “Rather skimpy?”
“I… I prefer them skimpy,” says Miss White. “They’re… they’re more comfortable that way, sir.”
“Are you aware that when you bend over in that skirt I can see not only your stockings but the line of your thong running up the crack of your ass?”
“I… I didn’t know, sir.”
“Come now,” says Mr. Williams. “I think you did.”
“Perhaps I suspected, sir.”
“But you don’t mind if I look, do you, Miss White? You like men to look at you? To know what you’re wearing under that tight skirt?”
“Y… yes, sir,” says the secretary. “I think… I do like it, yes.”
“Women, too? You like women to look at you, as well?”
Miss White blushes a deeper crimson.
“Yes, sir. Women, too.”
He clears his throat and says more loudly: “Kymberlee, when you reached out and grabbed my cock, I must say I expected you to just jerk me off there under the table. Which would have been quite a delicious treat, but I was even more pleasantly surprised when you leaned close to me and told me you’d already rented a room. When I asked you if they had room service, you told me to come upstairs and find out. Do your panties have a cotton crotch, Miss White?”
Her face pink, her nipples showing clearly through the tight top, Miss White says falteringly: “I’m afraid they don’t, sir.”
“But you’re beginning to wish they did, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” mutters Miss White.
“Perhaps you could show me.”
“Show me your panties. Come now, you’ve told me all about them. You’ve even admitted the tiny things are soaked through. The least you can do is prove it.”
Miss White sets her pad on the arm of the chair and stands up, reaching for the hem of her skirt.
“Bring your pad,” says Mr. Williams.
Obediently, Miss White picks the pad and pencil up with faltering hands. She sets it on the edge of the desk close to her and pulls up her skirt slowly, revealing first the lacy bands of her stockings, then the pearl-colored garters, then finally the tiny iridescent thong with its low-plunging front ringed by a splash of pink lace.
Mr. Williams looks over Miss White’s crotch quite appreciatively.
“You look like you’re shaved under there, Miss White. Freshly shaved.”
“Yes, sir,” says Miss White.
“Just this morning?”
“Yes,” says Miss White. “It’s still a little tingly.”
Her legs quivering, Miss White tucks her fingers under the straps of her thong and pulls it down her thighs, hesitating when the slip of silky lace is just below her moist, pink-swollen pussy.
“Take them off,” says Mr. Williams.
Miss White obediently steps out of the thong, lifting her feet through awkwardly in their high-heeled shoes. Mr. Williams snatches the thong from Miss White’s hand, brings it to his face, and inhales.
“You do wish you had a cotton crotch, Miss White. It’s only 10:00 in the morning.”
“Yes, sir, I know,” says Miss White, quivering as she stands there with her skirt pulled up.
“You’ve been gushing wet ever since you walked in here, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” says Miss White meekly.
“You certainly seem like you need a good fucking,” says Mr. Williams. “As good as I gave it to Kymberlee, and then some.”
“Y… yes, sir,” says Miss White. “I suppose I do.”
“Bend over the desk, then, and let’s finish the letter.”
Tucking the hem of her skirt into her waistband, Miss White bends over the big oak desk, which is just high enough to lift her heels off the ground when she rests her hips on it. She spreads her legs, having to stand on tiptoes to do so. She takes the steno pad and her rapidly-dulling pencil and stands ready, her breasts pushed uncomfortably against the desk and her ass lifted high for Mr. Williams. Mr. Williams undoes his pants and pulls out his cock, hard with desire. He presses up behind Miss White and begins to dictate.
“When you lifted your skirt and bent over and put your pretty ass in the air,” Mr. Williams says, guiding his cockhead to Miss White’s entrance as she scrawls furiously with shaking hands. “I knew you wanted it as bad as I did. But I had no idea how good that tight cunt of yours would feel wrapped around my cock. When I slid it home, you squealed like a pig, Kymberlee. I liked that. I liked hearing you squeal like a horny little piggy.”
With a shudder, Mr. Williams drives his cock into Miss White’s pussy, eliciting from her full, lipsticked lips a squeal remarkably like the one Mr. Williams just finished describing. Miss White wriggles her ass back and forth, snugging her cunt down onto Mr. Williams’ shaft as he begins to pound her. Her shorthand is becoming quite illegible, but she continues to scrawl as Mr. Williams dictates.
“From the way you pumped back onto my cock,” grunted Mr. Williams in time with his thrusts into Miss White, “I knew right away that you were close to a climax. I fucked you good, Kymberlee, and you gave as good as you got. I fully intended to take that snug little rear passage of yours, Kymberlee, but you were even more eager than I was. You looked over your shoulder and begged me to fuck you in the ass. ‘Ram it in my tight back door,’ I think, were your exact words, ‘make me your tawdry little ass-bitch.’ Excellent choice of words, Kymberlee, reinforcing my confidence that your oral skills were more than adequate for the tasks of this job. Do you like to get fucked in the ass, Miss White? Miss White, you’re not transcribing.”
Miss White is sprawled across the desk, moaning uncontrollably, a puddle of drool having formed under her red-painted lips on the glistening surface of the polished oak desk. Her ass is lifted high to receive the thrusts of Mr. Williams’ cock, and her eyes are shut tight as she shudders in bliss.
“S… sorry,” mumbles Miss White, and grasps the steno pad and pencil. “Wh… where were we?”
Mr. Williams pounds harder into Miss White’s cunt, making her utter a great moan of release as she finally reaches the orgasm she’d been striving for when she lost track of the steno pad. “What was the last thing you got, Miss White?”
Miss White’s voice is hoarse from moaning so loud. “‘Make me your tawdry little ass-bitch,’” she whimpers. “‘Make me your tawdry little ass-bitch, make me your tawdry little ass-bitch. Ohhhhh…”
“Do you like to get fucked in the ass, Miss White?”
“Right now,” moans Miss White. “God yes,” she wails. “Make me your tawdry little ass-bitch, sir!”
“Keep transcribing. I’ve got a 10:30.”
“Yes, sir,” whimpers Miss White, grasping the steno pad with some difficulty as Mr. Williams pulls out of her cunt and reaches for the bottle of lube in the top drawer of his desk. He pops it open and upends it, sending a glistening stream first into the deep furrow between Miss White’s perfect mounds and then onto the head of his cock. His pulsing organ, now glistening with lube and the remnants of Miss White’s copious juices, travels up until the head rests between the curve of Miss White’s pretty ass-cheeks, at the very entrance to her rosebud. “Please,” she moans desperately. “Please, please, in the ass…”
“The willingness of an office manager to beg for it in the ass is critically important,” says Mr. Williams, his breath coming out in a rush as his hips pivot, easing his mammoth organ into Miss White’s uncooperative back door. With a loud moan, Miss White straightens, then moans low and long as she settles back down onto the desk, scrawling furiously “Make me your tawdry ass-bitch” over and over again in shorthand as her ass surrenders its sanctity and Mr. Williams cock slides all the way into it until his balls gently tickle her lips. “Kymberlee, office politics demands frequent ass-fuckings, and you showed your willingness to put out in whatever way required when I rammed my gargantuan thing into that luscious crack of yours.”
“Garg…” moans Miss White. “Garg… garg… mmmmmm… gargggg… Gargan… tu…”
“G-a-r-g-a-n-t-u-a-n,” grunts Mr. Williams, his voice coming out in time with each pounding thrust deep into Miss White’s well-lubed rear passage.
“Th… thank you,” groans Miss White.
“But Kymberlee, the final decision was made when you begged me to whip my cock out of your ass and come on those gorgeous tits of yours. Nothing pleases me more rather than an applicant willing to show her dedication to a potential employer.”
“Yes, yes,” gasped Miss White. “Come on my tits! Come, please, come on my tits, sir!”
Pulling his cock out of Miss White’s ass, Mr. Williams steps back as Miss White slides off the desk and kneels before him, clutching the steno pad as she rips open her blouse. Buttons go popping everywhere and her breasts pop out of her too-tight bra invitingly, nipples pink and hard with arousal. Mr. Williams’ hand pumps up and down on his cock and within moments great streams of white jizz shoot out and onto Miss White’s breasts, soaking her blouse and bra, coating her mounds and slicking her nipples with Mr. Williams’ thick, pungent issue.
Come dribbles down off Miss White’s breasts and onto the steno pad, soaking the sheet that held all her shorthand scribblings. The pencil lines blur together.
Mr. Williams clears his throat.
“Therefore, if you accept this offer, please report to my office at 9 am Monday morning for intake processing; I’ll have your employment contract ready. Yours very truly, Mr. Anthony Williams, Chairman and CEO, etc. etc.”
Miss White is having some trouble getting her pencil to work because her hand is so slippery with Mr. Williams’ come. She rips a hole in the jizz-soaked steno page and has to take a fresh sheet to get the salutation down.
Mr. Williams hands her a wad of tissues from the box on his desk.
“Thank you,” says Miss White, dabbing the come off her cleavage. Mr. Williams tucks his cock away and zips up. Miss White pulls down her skirt, not bothering with the soaked panties, discarded casually across Mr. Williams’ oak desk. Even after she’s pulled her come-soaked blouse together, it’s clear that the lost buttons will prevent this particular item of clothing from ever being serviceable again. She clutches it together with a look of satisfaction on her face, a vague smile playing about her lips.
“Now, I’ve got my 10:30,” says Mr. Williams, leaning close to Miss White. “And you’ve got to prepare for the transition. You’ll have a lot of new responsibilities in your new position.” He clutches her to his chest and growls into her ear.
“But I’ll see you tonight at my place, Kym?”
“I’m counting on it, darling,” Miss White whispers back, and turns to leave. “Thanks for the raise.”
“Don’t mention it,” says Mr. Williams, and slaps her ass as she scurries away.
* * * * * * * *
N.T. Morley is the editor of Master/Slave and author of more than 20 published and forthcoming novels of erotic dominance and submission, including The Castle, The Tower, The Limousine, The Parlour, The Nightclub, The Circle and The Office. Morley’s writing has also appeared in the Naughty Stories series and the Sweet Life series.