His Naughty Secretary – Corporate Correction Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic Tags Authors: Emily Tilton Advertisement1

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She had her lower lip between her teeth, and she worried it gently and from my viewpoint very seductively as she walked slowly toward me. I felt like I could even read on her features—in the mobility of her forehead, in her little blinks, above all in the coming and going of color in her cheeks—how the battle inside her head was going. She wanted to get her paddling over with, but the idea that to get it over with meant that she would be fucked all the sooner troubled her—but that distress came not from her real reluctance to submit to her new boss sexually but from the sheer urgency of the need between her thighs.

I wondered if I could even see, in the hard, visible way she swallowed as she extended the paddle gingerly toward me, that she couldn’t stop thinking of her sweet young pussy as her cunt, since I had told her to think of it that way. The wand had varying degrees of effect, depending on the girl: I had never seen its operation take hold as strongly as it clearly had with Ingrid Vogel.

I’d heard that anecdotal evidence suggested that chemistry—something that most of Selecta’s scientists didn’t believe in—could heighten the action of the compliance wand. A little glow of affection lit up in my chest, very unexpectedly, as I wondered whether that could be the case with Ingrid.

I took the paddle from her hand. She shuddered as my fingers brushed hers, and her hand remained outstretched, as if awaiting my further orders. I had no intention of making her wait any longer.

“Turn around and touch your toes,” I told her. “Feet shoulder width apart.”

Ingrid

I gave Mr. Alden a beseeching look. The terrible indignity of the position he had commanded struck me as a punishment above and beyond the paddle itself. The expression on his face made my heart jump—and it told me that the wand’s effect didn’t rely on words alone from the man who used it. I could feel it, almost literally, how the set of my new boss’ brow made me start to turn and start to bend.

I tried, as my body helplessly obeyed the humiliating command, to make it seem graceful in some small way. I didn’t know why, but it seemed important to me in the moment that I display myself to Mr. Alden attractively. Insanity, but it felt like he might punish me for not doing my best to present myself for the paddle in a ladylike manner. He obviously wanted to get as much enjoyment as possible out of disciplining me and so, the hot, dark part of my mind said, the bare backside I offered to him, framed by my red garter belt and white stockings, should look pretty.

I could feel, though, just how ungainly I must appear as I bent my knees and stretched my arms, feeling the tension in my back and my thighs. I lowered my head for a moment and got a slightly dizzying view between my knees, of Mr. Alden’s trousered legs, the contrast with my nakedness making my heart beat faster with embarrassment. I lifted my chin to avoid looking at him and stared across the carpet toward his desk, waves of hot blood surging into my face with every heartbeat.

At least he let me keep the thong on, I thought. He can’t see everything. I watched my hands curl into fists and then open again, so that I could obey his instructions fully and literally touch my toes.

“I think I’ll take those panties down after all, sweetheart,” he said.

I let out a whimper, and then it grew into a sob as I felt his hands on my hips, stretching the waistband of the tiny garment. He started to pull it down, a dismayingly unique feeling underneath the suspenders that ran from the garter belt to my nylons. The thong remained stretched and taut around my thighs as Mr. Alden lowered it all the way to the tops of my stockings.

“When you wear a garter belt, from now on,” he told me as if it were the most natural thing in the world for an executive to give his secretary this sort of command, “you’ll wear your panties over the suspenders to make it easier for me to take them down—if I give you permission to wear panties at all. It’s important that I have access to your ass and your cunt whenever I want it.”

But… The word rose into my throat. But you can’t say that. But that’s… horrible… shameful… and I won’t…

Mr. Alden hadn’t asked me a question, though. I couldn’t say any of it, and my tummy flipped as I remembered to my horror once again what he had told me about the operation of the wand. If he had told me the truth, the real reason I couldn’t object to his instructions about my future conduct with respect to my underwear lay in my own dark needs.


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