Conference Call [Mf] bdsm elements

The conference room is not a large one. Solid walls and a table that can comfortably, barely, fit eight.

She enters. Her legs sliding under her red skirt. She tries not to think about the nude feeling.

She sits primly, crossing her legs, trying not to think of how exposed she feels. Even with the table to hide under, what if someone saw? Saw that she exposed. That she had no panties on.

She had worn panties of course. She was not some slut. Her eyes flicked to her wedding ring. She was not that kind of slut at least. She had dressed that morning, in front of her husband, and she had picked out pretty lacy red underwear to match the skirt. She had hoped that he, not the right he, would see and think them pretty. Think her sexy.

He had too. The first thing that morning. He had called her into his office. His voice on her line, “Please come into my office Mrs. B.” He had her lift her skirt. She had done so, blushing, not looking up, not looking him in the face, feeling his eyes on her. She heard his breath catch with lust and could have exploded. He did think her sexy. Maybe today would be the day. Maybe, just maybe, today he would fuck her.

When he had asked her to take the panties off, she had started to hope. She had held them and then, when instructed, had put them on his desk and watched his lovely hands pick them up. She didn’t know what to expect at that moment. Would he beat her? Would he touch her? Oh god, would he push her onto the desk and fuck her?

But he had just sent her away, had moved the panties out of her view and sent her out into the office nude under her skirt like some brazen slut. She felt the heat between her legs as she walked. Every time she thought “what if someone sees” she just felt herself getting slick. She pushed it from her mind though.

And in the conference room, she got to business. She looked at her pad, the notes from the last meeting, her items to report on and she dialed the conference line by memory. He would be joining, she forced the thought from her head. This was a proper meeting.

The door opened and as she saw his face from the corner of her eye she instantly brought her eyes down. They never spoke about rules. They never spoke about behavior. But she had learned in pain and pleasure. She did not look at him.

As the door shut, she hears the click of the lock. A small gasp escapes her and she quickly keys a command into the conference line.

“Hello Mrs. B,” he says.

Softly, she says, “where is Barb?”

His voice, pleasant, professional, “called in sick.” He sits next to her. His own pad held a few notes. Her eyes pulled to his hands and she feels the bareness between her legs again.

“Oh,” she says. She has no idea what to say. Alone with him, the conference line open, and soon the others dial in.

He welcomes everyone to the call, makes a few of his comments and then asks her to give updates on her projects.

She doesn’t think about the change in her. She doesn’t really think about the transition she goes through between horny submissive adulteress slut and confident business woman. She just does it. She goes over her projects. She listens to comments and responds. She is respected and serious.

The moment she is done though. The moment her turn to speak is over. The moment he asks for Greg’s update. She feels her eyes drop. She feels the control leaking out of her. She feels his presence and knows he knows she feels it. She recognizes what was is becoming. She feels how horny she is and how badly she wants his touch. His cock. His approval.

Even as he speaks, she feels his hand on her leg, the one that is crossed, hiding her bare sex from anyone that might peak under the table. Feels its gentle, but demanding tug. Her body shudders, happily giving in, not knowing or caring what he plans to do.

The voice on the phone, she tries to listen as she feels his fingers sliding up her thighs. They touch her nude sex and she feels in them how wet she is, how easily they slide against her and shudders again at the pleasure of his touch. The fingers slide lazily at first, but as the call continues, their motion becomes more and more deliberate. She fights to make no noise.

Somehow, through it all, he keeps talking, responding, asking questions of those on the phone. Her breathing is speeding up as his touches became harder and stronger. More insistent. He doesn’t miss a beat though. No one would guess hearing him, how much control he has of himself and her.

But the voices on the phone begin to blur for her. Her world consists of the pleasure and staying quiet. Her world is one where she is something that he can just toy with like this, she feels small and helpless and it is wonderful.

Would he really do this? Would he force the orgasm from her? Would he risk her making noise?

But he doesn’t slow. Minute by minute she fights back the pressure for release. The pleasure. She holds her mouth shut. She actually raises her hand to her mouth and clamps it over her lips. She wants to cry out so badly.

He feels so good. She feels so ashamed. So afraid. So horny.

It won’t stop though. Maybe it would if he were toying with her privately in his office. No, it is far worse. She realizes that she can’t ask for permission. Not during the call. Oh god, she can’t ask and can’t even look up to beg with her eyes and . . . . It sends her over the edge.

The pleasure, the humiliation, the helplessness of having to cum like this, of knowing that he would punish her later and it was all just too much. She has to bite her finger to not scream as the orgasm hits her. She bites so hard that later she will have bruises. As her teeth sink in, her eyes fall on her wedding ring and that only makes her bite harder.

Then it is over and he is still talking as if nothing has happened. He is closing out the call. He is ending the discussion and in between, as others comment, he is licking her off of his fingers. She can see his smile from the corner of her eyes. She is weak with the after tremors of it all.

She doesn’t move as the call closes, so he leans forward and shut the line down, hanging up.

She can’t speak. What would he do now? Chastise her? Mock her? Maybe, oh god if she was lucky, maybe he would push her down onto the conference table and fuck her. Just to feel his cock inside her finally, she thinks she might give anything. Anything he would ask and more.

He stands and she can’t help but make a small whimper. Fear or hope? She isn’t sure.

“I expect a full list of action items from the call on my desk by noon,” he says, his voice is stern. A teacher with a student, not the pleasant voice of gentle authority he normally uses in the office. She is very glad she set the call to record. He didn’t actually need it, the notes, he is just testing her. Giving her an excuse to please him or displease him, further.

“Also,” he says, as he walks to the door, “you left something in my office earlier, I think you should come by at five to get it.”

She whimpers again, “yes sir.”

When he speaks, just before he leaves the room, his voice is stern but she can hear the grin on his face, “we will discuss your unprofessional behavior during the meeting at that point. Discuss what disciplinary measures should be taken.”

She doesn’t move until he leaves the room. Collecting herself before heading to the bathroom to clean up. She can’t help but recognize that right now, right now she smells like a slut and that all day long, she will feel wet between her legs as she waits for it to be five.

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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/5cgw6v/conference_call_mf_bdsm_elements