yyyuppers, Author at NSFW story — Page 2 of 2

Bound [MF] [MDom]

“You look very pretty like this, you know,” he said patronizingly, running his finger underneath my jawline as he basked in his handiwork.

I raised an eyebrow at him, deciding that the best response, in this case, was no response at all. He stepped back from me, taking his time as he took in the picture sitting in front of him. I was sitting on one of his large, cold, wooden chairs with my hands bound behind my back; and my ankles were tied to the legs of the chair, positioning me so that my ass was on the edge of the seat. The entire tableau was lewd, I was sure: the position of my arms pushed my chest forward, and I was completely unable to close my legs against anything that he had planned for me. My inability to move ensured that I was entirely on display for him and completely at his mercy, and I knew that he could see just how wet this was making me.

“Most people,” he said as he knelt between my legs, looking up at me, “say thank you when they’re given a compliment.”

My Office Crush, Part 5 [MF] [Light BDSM]

I could feel him staring at me from across the boardroom table.

This wasn’t a wayward glance, but an outright stare. When he dropped his pen off of the table, I had a moment of solace in which I wasn’t being glared at. I kept my eyes trained to the front of the room, focusing on the presentation that was being given to us. I did all of the right things: nod when I was supposed to, laugh when a bad joke was made, and I certainly didn’t look at my phone despite the flurry of text messages that he was sending to me.

I ran my finger along the peter pan neckline of my dress distractedly. The urge to pull out my phone and check the messages was overwhelming, but that didn’t mean that I was going to. I could literally feel my resolve slipping with each vibration from my phone. Instead of giving in, I moved my hands under my lap and sat on them. I knew what he wanted, and I didn’t want to give in. A moment later, I felt another buzz against my lap.

The Argument [MF]

My blood was boiling. To say that I was annoyed would have been a gross understatement. I clenched and unclenched my fists as I sat next to him in the cab; our tense silence had stretched out for the entire ride.

We had been friends for a long time. We had always flirted with the line of something else, but we never committed to crossing the line in any tangible way. It just never worked out. I had wanted to cross that line tonight. I was visiting him during a trip abroad, and I only had a short window of time to see him; so I thought that this would be it. This would be the time where we’d be able to explore this sexual tension.

I took a deep breath and thought about what I had just went through to get to this point: extending the invitation to go out for drinks, watching him flirt with someone else for most of the night, and then the fact that he left me there to go home with her. I looked out of the window, and saw a dark reflection of myself in the dim lights from the car’s dashboard. My mascara had started to run when I called him – angry, buzzed, and afraid – asking for him to come take me home. I was angry enough that tears had found their way out, and they caused me to start screaming at him. Read more »

The Fantasy [MF] [MDom] [Light Bondage]

I’ve always gravitated to the idea of being tied up. Ever since I was a kid, I enjoyed movies where the heroine was tied up and struggling against the bonds that held her. If any particular scene added in a piece of tape over her mouth as she was screaming at her captor, it would instantly become my new favorite movie. There are a few very distinct memories that I have of playing games with neighborhood kids. We would be playing games like “cops and robbers” where the victim had to be tied up. I always pretended to be dissatisfied with being the victim. Looking back, I was an easy choice. I was small, so it was easy to just… throw me around.

I can remember feeling excited as I was being tied up – struggling against the bonds. Since we were kids, and not actual criminals, we’d use whatever was lying around. Sometimes it would be rope, a phone cord, or a spare cable from someone’s garage. Then, within a few minutes, I would be bound on the floor or to a chair. It was my favorite game, and I always felt a keen sense of disappointment when I was rescued. Read more »

My Office Crush, Part 4 [MF] [MDom]

I drummed my fingers on my desk impatiently, refusing to open the PhotoBooth app on my computer again. It was the problem with trying to look nice at work: it was an all-consuming pain-in-the-ass. There was an important client coming in today, so I needed to look “presentable,” rather than (as Jack so lovingly said) “a hippie”.

I did pull myself together, if I do say so myself. Instead of my loose skirts, I had on an appropriately tight pencil skirt with a button-down tucked into it neatly. I couldn’t wait until after the meeting to un-tuck it.

There was one benefit about dressing up at work: he kept watching me intently. It look a lot in me to not go over to his desk, hop up onto it, put one heeled foot onto the wooden surface, and show him everything that was going on underneath. I wanted to see the look on his face when he saw the straps of the garter belt holding up my thigh-highs and the small, delicate-looking thong that I had on. I leaned back in my chair, getting caught up in the daydream. I imagined him pulling me off of his desk by my hair and tucking me underneath it. He would then tell me to play with myself, but then go back to work as he listened to my whimpers and moans – knowing that all he had to do was look under the desk to find me working myself up for him. Eventually, this wouldn’t be enough, and I would crawl to his lap, running my hands over his thighs. I’d unzip his pants and take his cock into my mouth, hearing his breathing catch. Read more »

My Office Crush, 3.5 (Can Stand Alone) [MF]

I tried to steady my breath as my finger hovered over the small phone icon on the screen.

He had just texted telling me that he couldn’t wait until Friday to see me again, and that I should wear something that I didn’t mind having torn off. A few weeks had passed and we developed a bit of a routine: I went to his place on Friday nights after work, we had our own private happy hour(s), and I left. Generally, when I left, it was in a post-orgasmic bliss with marks to remind me that he liked it just as rough as I did.

I nervously pressed the button, and he picked up on the first ring.

“Answering a text with a phone call? Isn’t that against a rule?” I could hear the smile in his voice: I imagined the small smirk playing on his lips as I rolled my eyes.

“Well, you said you couldn’t wait. I am simply being… helpful.”

“Oh?” he said. I heard the sound of shifting on the other line as he adjusted his position. “Helpful, hmm? How do you suppose that you could be ‘helpful’?” Read more »

My Office Crush, Part 3 [Long] [MF]

The next week passed by with excruciating slowness.

After we had finished up on Friday, and after we discovered that he had accidentally ripped my dress, we decided that this couldn’t be something that interrupted our daily life in the office. My job was too important to me to become someone that got caught screwing around during work hours, even if the idea excited me beyond reason.

When we came back to work on Monday, things seemed normal. We discussed our weekends and the upcoming week, made jokes as we ate lunch with coworkers, and generally seemed to ignore each other while we were actually working.

Of course, I wasn’t actually ignoring him. I was acutely aware of what he was doing: when he went to the copier, when he was clearly browsing social media sites instead of working, and when I felt him looking over at me. This little game was interesting. If I caught him looking at me, he would purposefully take his time moving his eyes down my body; by the time he would make it back up to my face, I could feel myself blushing.

[Str8] [MDom] [Long] My Office Crush

I started wearing thigh-highs to work after learning that he liked them. Some of the other guys in the office were ragging on him about it one Friday evening when everyone in the office had gone out for drinks. Not that this mattered – it was unlikely that he would see them anytime soon. We were friendly, but not that friendly. We lived on the “coworkers” plane, which was a far cry away from the plane where you saw each other’s undergarments.

Our office dress code was fairly casual. The men wore chinos and dark jeans, and the women could typically get away with wearing their “good” leggings and longer blouses. I, however, wore floaty skirts and dresses so that I could feel the tops of the thigh-highs rubbing together between my legs. Of course, since it was an office, no one knew that I was wearing them – they just looked like regular stockings. There was no line running up the back of them, and they certainly weren’t fishnets. It was my own little secret fantasy: that, maybe, one day, my skirt would blow up in a strong wind and he would see them clinging to the skin of my thighs. Read more »