His Obedience

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Part 1: His Stockings

He sits at his mahogany desk in his corner office. His hands flex against his leather desk pad. His knuckles begin to mottle. He struggles to maintain restraint.

The board meeting adjourned a scant ten minutes ago. She did not allow any time to speak privately. He knew Her immediate conversation with several other board members was a ruse. He knew that he could not approach Her in their presence without drawing curiosity. Nor could he wait for Her, for the same reasons.

Their relationship is a secret. It must remain so. She cannot afford to be associated with him.

Gossip is a wildfire that cannot be extinguished.

He is known for his exploitations of women. Her high esteem amongst their colleagues would be jeopardized if they were found out. She would be belittled. They would see Her as another one of his conquests. They would pity Her. They would question Her judgment. They would speculate Her motives. She would be seen as just another woman trying to fuck Her way up the bureaucratic ladder.

Their peers would not be able to see the truth of things. There would be no convincing them that he was the putty in Her hands, not vice versa.

He rubs his thighs together.

He aches for release.

There is another tier to this assignment. If the task were as simple as wearing some women’s lingerie, there would be no challenge. His state of arousal would not be a problem. His secretary is more than willing to help him ‘work out’ any pent up sexual frustrations. Under normal circumstances, he has no qualms with utilizing her particular assets.

Domina knows of his relations with his secretary.

And so, She has concocted two stipulations for wearing the stockings. Firstly, he cannot remove them without Her permission. Secondly, he is banned from any sexual gratification while he dons them, unless She gives him permission.

He craves Her permission.

He glances at his cell phone. He wonders if he is above begging. Before this morning, he thought he was. Now, he isn’t so sure.

He picks up the cell phone.

He texts Her one word. He hopes it doesn’t sound too plaintive.

Domina?

He waits. She keeps him locked tight in anticipation for an indefinite period of time.

Finally, She replies.

No.

He groans.

He rubs his thighs together.

He obeys.

((Sculpture is ‘Fugit Amor’ by Rodin))

3 comments on “His Obedience

  1. Isabella says:

    Smiles…oh my…this is magnificent 🙂

  2. MaríMar says:

    Denial can be so arousing…
    I can’t wait to see what happens next.

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